


The Noose

by DejaVu22



Series: A Circle Can Be a Halo or a Noose [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Canon Divergence - Revenge of the Sith, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt, I just really like hurting my characters, Major Character Injury, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Order 66, Poor Obi-Wan, There is angst and then there is this, major mistreatment of characters, somewhat happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-04 11:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13363965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DejaVu22/pseuds/DejaVu22
Summary: Anakin was still in the Temple when Order 66 was carried out. A large group of younglings are depending on him to get them out, but fighting his own troops, terrified for Padme's life, and facing failure, the Dark Side threatens to drown him at every turn. Success doesn't always mean survival."This is Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, brother, husband, and soon to be father, signing off for the last time."





	1. Waves

Anakin Skywalker was no stranger to the Dark Side of the Force. He had learned about it from Obi-wan's cautionary tales, fought against its agents many times during the Clone Wars. And, loathe as he was to admit it, often felt it brewing inside himself as well.

The Dark Side wasn't a doorway of choice. It didn't sit beside a similar doorway of the Light and passively wait for him to choose. Obi-wan never seemed to realize that. None of the Jedi did. They didn't realize that the Dark Side was more like the tide of an ocean, creeping in quietly, so quietly that you didn't notice it until it was lapping tantalizingly at your ankles, and sucking your feet further into the sand. And then, just as you begin to want it, to accept the water's tantalizing offers of power and respect, it recedes, leaving you scrambling to reclaim what you lost from the Light Side, all the while remembering what the dark water offered. Eventually, you began to think you were okay, that you had buried the traitorous seed of desire that the water had planted within you. Then the water would once again creep up, and pull and your knees, and the cycle would begin again.

Anakin felt he was barely keeping his head afloat. He wasn't even sure he wanted to.

That was the trap of the Sith.

He was dimly aware of how much of a maniac he seemed as he sprinted through the Temple's hallways. Greasy and unwashed hair mussed as if he had been pulling on it all afternoon (which he had); eyes with dark bags framed with red as if he hadn't slept in weeks (which he hadn't), flashing with desperation as if his life hung in the balance of his mission (which it did). He really didn't care.

However, even his desperate sprint through the Temple was halted as the Force screamed at him. Anakin stumbled to a stop, only partially aware as he fell against the wall and managed to hold himself up against it. If the Dark Side was an ocean at high tide... this sensation felt like a tidal wave slamming into him. The freezing terror surrounded him, suffocating him even as it sent cold icicles inside of him. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. All he knew was something was wrong.

A horrible churning in his stomach made him feel sick as he realized what the feeling meant. The worst part was that all he could do was watch as the balance of the Force shifted, grinding slowly on rusted hinges as the Dark Side took a step up on the Light, leaving him shivering even as the tidal wave receded.

No. It wasn't possible. The Dark Side couldn't have triumphed over the light. It just couldn't have. Anakin was the Chosen One. He would have been able to do something. He should've been able to do something.

"Master Skywalker? Are you alright?" A young voice questioned, startlingly close to Anakin's ear. The Knight took several stumbling steps away from the boy that seemed to have simply popped into existence beside Anakin.

His head was throbbing, as if someone were slowly burning a hole into it with their lightsaber. Anakin shook his head, desperately trying to clear it enough to deal with the Padawan in front of him. The boy didn't seem to realize what had happened, his blonde brow merely crumpling in concern for Anakin.

"Master Skywalker?" The Padawan took a few steps closer, tentatively reaching up to put supportive hand on Anakin's shoulder and looking closely at Anakin's face for some cause to the Knight's distress. "Are you alright? You seem pale. Should I take you to the Halls of Healing?" His voice was soft and respectful, but firm enough to drag Anakin further into the real world.

"No..." Anakin forced out, the weight of the world leaving him exhausted as he tried to understand what could have happened to cause such a shift. And what it meant for the Jedi. "I'm-"

A bad feeling worthy of Obi-wan shot through Anakin. His lightsaber was in his hand in the next moment, the adrenaline giving him the strength the push himself off the wall and look down the hallway anxiously. The Padawan stumbled back several terrified steps, his hand dropping to his own lightsaber at his waist.

Anakin extended a calming hand to the Padawan, half-focused on finding the source of the horribly bad feeling he was getting.

The Padawan looked extremely confused as Anakin raised his free hand to his lips and gestured meaningfully to the boy's lightsaber. It took a moment, but understanding soon sparked in the boy's eyes and his hand hesitantly closed around the saber, unhooking it from his belt and holding it at the ready. Together, they cautiously moved through the Temple, the boy following Anakin as the Knight probed the Force for the source of the bad feeling.

After not encountering any immediate threat, Anakin beckoned the Padawan closer. "Do you feel anything?" He murmured near the teen's ear.

The Padawan nodded slowly and replied with an equal volume, "A dark foreboding. Something bad is going to happen. I've never felt anything like it."

Anakin nodded, "I agree." After a brief moment of deliberation, he turned a bit more to the Padawan. "What's your name?"

"Padawan Kilsek, Master." The boy replied quickly.

A bit of dry humor graced Anakin's lips as he answered, "Just Anakin. I'm probably only a few years your senior, Kilsek."

"But a hundred times a better warrior and Jedi, Ma- Anakin," Kilsek replied quickly, eagerness sending excitement flashing through his eyes.

Anakin pursed his lips and looked away. "That's currently up to debate," he muttered sullenly, before remembering his audience. "Kilsek-"

"-Jayden."

"Jayden. I need you to stick close to me, alright?" Anakin glanced around again, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. "I have a really bad feeling about this."

Jayden nodded.

That was as far as they got before blasterfire echoed in the hallways and screams permeated the air. It reminded Anakin too much of a war zone. An actual pain throbbed in his chest at hearing such sounds in the Temple. The Temple was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be a sanctuary.

The pain aching in his chest was nothing compared to when he saw the blue painted clone troopers gun down a creche master without hesitation. The younglings scattered in terror, screams on their lips as their classmates were gunned down around them by the soldiers they had been told to trust.

Protective rage burned through Anakin. He launched himself at the nearest clone, stabbing into the familiar armor before his presence was even noticed. The action was surprisingly easy and left him sick. These men had been at his side at every battle. They were his own troops.

When he struck down another, he felt an indescribable guilt beginning to build. Guilt because, somehow, he felt that he was betraying them as much as they were betraying him. The men that he had built friendships and camaraderie with had always trusted him to lead them into victory. They trusted him to lead them into battle and carry them out with their lives intact. Slaughtering them was... it was a blasphemy of all Anakin had believed in about brothers-in-arms.

But he didn't stop. He didn't hesitate for a moment to slice armor and flesh apart as if they were merely the droids he had fought against for three years. His lightsaber flashed, and bodies fell, and Anakin felt something important in him being ripped apart.

But he didn't stop.

The rage that coursed through him, at the apathy and the audacity of the clones' attack on the Temple kept him returning their fire with a ferociousness akin to an animal. The shift in the Balance fueled him like he had never felt before; his powers felt limitless. He knew that what he felt was so wrong and that Obi-wan would be extremely disappointed in him, but the rage at his troops' betrayal made him ignore those nagging feelings, twist them into more rage because the clones caused this and this was all their fault.

"Anakin!"

Anakin drew to a stop at the familiar voice. For a moment, he could have sworn it was Obi-wan's and that his brother had returned to his side at his darkest hour. The hope was dashed as his eyes fell on Jayden, who had fallen behind and gotten separated from Anakin's ferocious attack, instead standing in front of a small group of younglings, holding his ground, and quickly being overwhelmed because of it.

The Knight heaved himself out of his own turmoiled mind and finally took notice of his surroundings. They were in a large hall that led to the classrooms and creches. There were several other Jedi masters, Knights and Padawans in the room as well, all defending their own groups of younglings. The large antechamber was swarmed with clones; the soldiers surrounding the Jedi and taking them down with shear overwhelming numbers without care to how many of their brothers fell.

Ten to twenty clones fell for every Jedi that they took down, but the Jedi were still falling; defenseless younglings being gunned down if their protector fell or faltered. It was a massacre.

Taking this all in in an instant, Anakin quickly made his way back to Jayden's side, who was panting desperately for air and greatly overwhelmed, but still staying strong and fighting valiantly. No small amount of respect surged through Anakin at the courage and heart that the Padawan showed as he defended his charges.

"We need to group with the other Jedi!" Anakin yelled over the din of the sabers and blasters and screams. "Move over towards Grechin's group," he ordered, gesturing with his head towards a wizened Jedi master and a couple of Padawans defending their own class of younglings.

Jayden nodded and started shouting orders towards the frightened younglings behind them that were pressed against the wall in terror. At first, they seemed to terrified to move and wouldn't listen to Jayden, but somehow the Padawan managed to get them moving, and soon the children were sprinting towards the other group with the wall on one side and Anakin and Jayden defending the other.

Master Grechin nodded in recognition and thanks as they combined their group. Slowly, they moved to other groups and combined, and others seemed to get the same idea. Eventually, their combined force of Jedi Masters, Knights and Padawans surrounded twenty or so younglings -all that had survived out of the fifty or so originally in the Temple- in a large circle that resembled the original Battle of Geonosis, with clones surrounding their defensive circle on all sides. Unlike Geonosis, there would be no respite, and no other help coming.

Anakin, recognizing that they had to change strategy or get systematically gunned down, made his way over to Master Gnocchi, one of the only Masters he could see that still remained. The few others in the Temple had already perished, and the rest of the many Masters in the Order had been spread throughout the entire galaxy on missions. Anakin cursed the Council that had allowed the Jedi to become so dispersed; that were so short-sighted to leave their home and the defenseless beings residing in it completely without protection.

"Master Gnocchi," Anakin grunted.

"Knight Skywalker," the Master acknowledged gruffly.

"We need to split up. We're a giant target like this." Okay so maybe the idea to group together had been his in the first place, but that didn't mean that it wasn't helpful in the first place.

"I was thinking the same thing." Gnocchi paused as he evaluated the situation. "Three groups. I will remain here with the Knights. You and Aala will lead two groups of Padawans and younglings out of here. Use one of the secret exits. I'm sure you're familiar with a few of them."

Well, a bit more than a few, but that wasn't an issue at the moment.

"Master, no! The Knights that stay-"

"-will die defending their home. As will I."

"Master, allow me to stay behind. You should continue on with the younglings while a couple of Knights and I draw them away-"

"Knight Skywalker. You might be the very last of the Jedi Council. Not only that, but you are without a doubt that strongest Force Master here."

It would be a lie to say the compliment didn't inflate Anakin's ego a bit, despite the situation they were in. As such, it did the opposite of what Master Gnocchi was going for and just made Anakin more confident to argue. "Which is why I should stay with the other Knights to fight rather than run away!"

"Which is why you should be the last line of defense for the younglings- for our future. We have no time to argue. Anakin, you must go. Live." A hand rested on Anakin's shoulder. "Bring balance to the Force, as you are destined to, Chosen One." Not waiting for a rebuttal, Master Gnocchi began calling out commands to his Knights. Anakin called out to Jayden and Aala and quickly conveyed the plan. The three of them organized the younglings and Padawans at record speed.

The Knights surged outwards in a last offensive designed to distract the clones, and Anakin took his group sprinting down the dorm hallways while Aala sent her group towards the mess hall. With Jayden's help, Anakin was able to defend their retreat.

Mostly. One Padawan cried out in pain and collapsed, not moving from where they fell. Anakin didn't look back.

Despite the sweat that beaded his brow and the congested air of burnt stone, wood and flesh, Anakin found himself growing horribly cold. With each Jedi light extinguished, he felt another icy tendril creep into the Force, into his very being and threatening to freeze his own light. It was a terrifying feeling.

They had a moment of respite after Anakin pulled the ceiling down and blocked the hallway. It wouldn't hold the troopers off for long; eventually they would blow the rubble or figure a way around. They would need to change floors if they actually wanted to lose their dedicated pursuers.

Anakin hit his communicator again, as if the violence would magically change the static to a connection and offer him Padme's comforting voice. It stayed static. Anakin knew that the communicator wasn't the issue and that the clones had no doubt cut off transmissions around the building. They couldn't call for help until they had left the perimeter. Anakin was on his own.

The Knight looked over at his twenty-six charges. Sixteen younglings, five of which below the age of eight. Ten Padawans, only three of which anywhere near their trials. One major injury on a Padawan of fifteen years. A bolt hit her hand. Long story short, once they stopped running, there wasn't much left to amputate. A Padawan of sixteen years, who had been training in the medical wing recently, was taking care of her now. There were several bruises and singes littering the Jedi, not to mention the tears burning into their cheeks.

Anakin wished he had some inspiring and kind words to say to them. Something that would remind them that there was hope, even though their home had been invaded by soldiers meant to protect them and their friends shot down before their eyes in a gruesome massacre before being left to the care of a Jedi Knight struggling to keep himself grounded in the Light and not selfishly leave them behind to help his own family. Yeah. There was a whole lot of hope there. Don't give up kiddos.

That was why he wasn't going to attempt a speech. Leave the preaching to Padme and Obi-wan. They could calm and inspire the traumatized kids. All Anakin had to do was get them out of danger first.

"Jayden," Anakin called the Padawan over, walking away from the group slightly to get a bit of privacy. Jayden stood up from his attempts to comfort the two smallest, handing them over to another Padawan that looked far too tired and broken for her age.

The boy was walking with a slight limp, though he was clearly trying to hide it. Anakin said nothing about it. They didn't have time or supplies to care for the twisted ankle. All he could do was encourage the Padawan to muscle through it - an effort that would no doubt come across as patronizing and stupid.

If it were Obi-wan or Ahsoka or... Rex... he would have teased them about it and helped them walk it off. But Jayden, despite being the same age as Ahsoka, seemed too young to be subject to Anakin's gallows humor and would probably take it as literal.

"The group is exhausted. And... a lot of them have lost all hope," Jayden reported, his own despair filtering into his voice and the low set of his shoulders.

"Have you?" Anakin asked, not looking at Jayden to avoid broadcasting any blame or shame at the notion.

"I-" Jayden was quick with his denial, but just as fast to catch himself with the lie. "I don't see how the Jedi could survive this. I don't even know why this is happening. Anakin, the clones, why would they attack us? Aren't they Republic soldiers? Is this some sort of Separatist plot? And why hasn't anyone arrived with help? Wouldn't the Chancellor help? I don't understand how this could happen."

Anakin's eyes slid closed as he took a few seconds to battle the hatred that had surged up at the title of the Chancellor. No doubt, he was the reason behind the clones' betrayal. Anakin could only assume that Master Windu and the others he took with him were dead. The Jedi rebellion that the Chancellor had warned him about had taken place. Just not in the way that Anakin had assumed. Now the Chancellor had his excuse to wipe out the Sith's mortal enemy, the Jedi.

It was devastating enough for Anakin. How was he supposed to explain it to a group of younglings? For a moment, he contemplated hiding the truth and replying that yes, it was a Separatist plot and of course help would be sent soon. That lie wouldn't help them. It was a false comfort that would only get them into trouble later.

"Go get Padawans Heath and Pli-sec," Anakin told Jayden. "There's something I need to tell you three." He heard the Padawan hesitantly move off to retrieve the other two senior Padawans and spent the brief moment to organize his thoughts.

"Master Skywalker?" Jayden asked hesitantly once they had returned.

Anakin forced his eyes open and turned fully to face the three. He didn't comment on the tears welling in Jayden's eyes, or the smudge of blood above Padawan Pli-sec's left brow from his equally bloodied hands. "Padawans," Anakin hesitated again as he saw another strand of hope die in Jayden's eyes but forged onward anyway, "I'm going to tell you a few things that only the Jedi Council knows about. I'm telling you these things because you need to know why this is happening, and just how dangerous this situation has become." And this way, if Anakin somehow didn't make it, there would be someone else to warn Obi-wan and Padme. "You need to be calm, and handle these dangers strategically, okay?"

The Padawans swallowed heavily before nodding.

So Anakin told them that the Chancellor was a Sith. He told them that Windu and the others had gone to confront him and were most likely dead. He told them that Yoda was a on Kashyyyk and Obi-wan on Utapu, which meant that the majority of the council was dead or off-planet. He told them that they were all most likely fugitives of the Republic.

Then, he told them that they were still alive. That they were probably the last hope for the Jedi Order. And that they would survive. He told them that there were several people that he knew and trusted outside the Order that would help them. He mentioned Senators Amidala and Organa.

If they were ever separated, he told them, then they needed to contact one of those two for help.

"You need to be strong. The strength and fortitude you have already shown is very admirable. You are all worthy of the title of Jedi Knight." Anakin had no authority to crown them Knights, but he never was one for following protocol and, in his mind, they deserved the title a thousand times over. "So, as new Jedi Knights, your duty is to protect the younglings under your care. Do you understand?"

The three new Knights exchanged startled and even excited glances between the three of them. A small smile even broke out on Knight Heath's face. A new energy seemed to flow into their limbs as their shoulders once again grew straight and strong and their faces hardened into an expression of determination.

"Yes Master," Knight Pli-sec replied.

"Call me Anakin," He told them. The Force nudged at Anakin in warning. "Now, get everyone ready to go. We head towards the lifts."

The younger Padawans were each assigned a small youngling to watch over. Because there were more younglings than Padawans, and Anakin wanted to keep the new Knights unladen so they could better defend the group, the younglings around ten years old partnered with younglings of similar age and were told to stick close to each other and the Knights.

At first, they moved slowly in a compact shape with Jayden and Pli-sec leading the way and Anakin watching the back with Heath, who was also occupied helping the injured Padawan shuffle forward in a shocked daze. However, as the hair on the back of his neck prickled more and more, and his bad feeling grew worse, Anakin grew sure that the slow pace was going to get them all killed. Several times he found himself glancing behind them, sure that clones were coming up on them. Each time he saw nothing but empty hallway, but still found his nerves growing.

And then, the Force practically screamed at him, telling him if he didn't get their group moving that second then they would all die. There were still no clones in the vicinity, but that fact seemed trivial as he shouted at the group to run. The kids hesitated for a moment before shooting into a sprint led by Jayden. Their tight circle inevitably extended into a long line with large gaps as those with longer legs and less burden drew ahead, carrying their smaller charges on their backs in many cases, while the exhausted younglings fell behind.

Anakin remained at the back, helping Heath practically drag the injured Padawan into a stumbling sprint.

"Master Anakin, what's happening?" Heath gasped as she barely managed to catch the Padawan's stumble.

The Knight didn't have a chance to answer as the ceiling began to crack over their heads. The very same moment, a youngling tripped into a sprawling heap, halting the progress of those behind her who stopped to help rather than run past.

Anakin helped Heath past the clustered group and breathed an order to keep going as he turned back to the younglings. The ceiling began to crumble. Anakin instinctively Force-pushed Heath further down the hallway and out of range of the inevitable rubble.

The duracrete came crashing down towards Anakin and the younglings. The Knight threw up his hands to hold up the weight and almost immediately buckled under the strain. Just as he had rallied himself to hold the building's structure, a large chunk slammed on Anakin's back and knocked him to the ground. Desperation shot through him as the heavy rubble crashed down in tumultuous thunder. And then everything was silent.


	2. Glorified Glowstick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now separated from the majority of his group, Anakin has to help small younglings find a way out of the Temple. But nothing is ever easy, and as Obi-wan always put it, Anakin tended to overdo things on a massive scale.

Air rushed back into Anakin's lungs in a great heaving gasp only to be immediately rejected. The Knight choked on the debris floating in their air as he attempted to draw breath into his deprived lungs. The second breath was easier. The third cleared away some of the spots dancing in front of his eyes. By the fourth, his reluctant breathing had been controlled, with only small coughs interrupting the pattern.

Eyes already watering, Anakin forced them open wide, blinking several times in an attempt to clear the dust out. It was mostly dark, with only small beams of light filtering through. Anakin could only assume that they were mostly buried.

He himself found his midsection weighted down by several smaller rocks that slid off of him when he pushed his frame off of the ground with a groan. No injuries beyond scrapes and bruises that had become almost constant to him anyway throughout the course of the Clone Wars. A possible concussion, but he could walk it off. No doubt the Temple medics would be appalled and pissed about the way that he dismissed his injuries, but he hadn't cared in the past and he didn't see any reason to break that streak.

Besides, a morbid part of him thought, there probably weren't any Temple medics left to yell at him.

A child's whimpering stirred the air and reminded Anakin's straying mind that he wasn't alone under the rubble. Shaking his head in an effort to clear it that only left it aching, the Knight reached for his lightsaber at his belt, panicking slightly when he didn't find it in its usual spot.

He wanted to laugh, because just how many times had Obi-wan lectured him on losing his lightsaber?

Gallows humor wasn't usually his thing. That was Obi-wan's forte, while Anakin preferred more cocky optimism. Obi-wan was clearly a bad influence.

The Knight searched through the rubble for his saber with the Force, pulling it into his hand once he located it a few feet away. Putting the strength at the dimmest setting, he activated the lightsaber, hoping to cast a little more light on his situation.

The most dignified weapon in the galaxy being used as a glorified glowstick. Anakin didn't care if you had the humor of a swamprat, that was funny. Every. Single. Time.

"Master Skywalker?" A child coughed.

"I'm here," Anakin replied, already casting his senses around to see the extent of the destruction and just how much luck they had in surviving it. He sensed eight children with him still breathing. He wasn't sure about their physical conditions, but their presences were all strong in the Force, so he could hope that any injuries sustained weren't too bad. The ceiling had collapsed right above them. Rubble piled on either end of the hallway, and two large slabs were tentatively leaning against each other above them, no doubt holding more stones at bay. If the two slabs fell, they would all be crushed, and they didn't look very stable to begin with.

"Nobody move, okay? I'm gonna come find you," He told them.

Anakin pushed himself to his knees, the stone slab not providing much more space for him to maneuver. Infinitely careful about his movements so he wouldn't accidentally shift a support and sent it all crashing down on them, he waved his lightsaber in a slow arc. The light cast upon two glimmering eyes, filled with fearful tears.

"Hey," he comforted quietly, laying a hand on the youngling's head in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "I'm gonna get you out of there, okay? Just stay still." The youngling nodded briefly, too terrified to move anything else. Much like Anakin, a bunch of smaller debris had littered her lower back and the medium sized slab that was weighing on her calf couldn't be comfortable. But she would live.

Anakin systematically cleared all the debris away, every move ginger and delicate so he wouldn't harm her or himself further. His back had wrenched in all the wrong ways when the initial stone hit him. Eventually, he was able to pull her fully out of the debris and sit her up in the center of the area, telling her to stay put. She nodded, but only reluctantly relinquished her hold on his tunic.

It was in this slow fashion that Anakin was able to pull each of the children out of their crevices and deposit them in the middle of the area, where they all clung to each other in a massive huddle of fear. All but one.

The last one was difficult, with a small rebar lodged into his arm and the floor underneath. Unfortunately, the rebar seemed to be part of the entire support system, and shifting it would possibly cause a collapse. In order to get the kid free of the structure, he would have to cut the rebar from the duracrete it was connected to and allow the duracrete to crash to the ground without the support, only removing the rebar once they were free. Again, such an action would send the entire structure toppling down.

To make matters worse, the occasional shift of the slabs of their own accord put his strategies on a time limit. Even if the slabs didn't fall on them, or Anakin could hold them up, or they could somehow take shelter, there would no doubt be clones arriving to eliminate any survivors. Anakin had no doubt that the random collapse was their doing, though whether they meant to crush the Jedi or just cut them off was just semantics.

Spewing a few curses disguised as coughing, Anakin once again glanced around the area for any idea what to do next. They couldn't escape on either side. And they couldn't go up. His line of sight traveled to his feet and he found himself grinning. It wouldn't be the first time, and if he got out of this it surely won't be the last. Shuffling to an open space away from the kids, Anakin cranked up the power on the saber. Its humming grew much more distinct and the heat radiating off of it grew more familiar and comforting. Seconds later, the floor had a somewhat circular hole leading down into a hallway that was thankfully clear of clones.

It wasn't quite circular, maybe more of a squampus oval with a pointy end, and Obi-wan would no doubt have laughed at Anakin if he were here. Anakin's old Master was all too happy to point out Anakin's inability to draw or carve a circle at any occasion, and the thought made Anakin smile.

The Knight turned away from the hole and back to the still trapped youngling, who was whimpering softly in pain and fear of being left behind. Focusing on the rebar, Anakin wrapped the Force around it like a tight bandage. A very, very tight bandage that would hopefully not break when he did what he was planning. Placing the opening of the saber right against the rebar as close to the youngling's arm as he dared, he spared a moment to offer a reassuring smile for the kid before activating the saber.

It burned through the metal easily and detached the youngling from the duracrete. The Force bandage Anakin had wrapped around it kept the metal in place, still pinning the child to the ground, though he could feel more pressure being applied to it every second.

Anakin quickly turned to face the children, who were watching him timidly, and looked hard at their dirt covered faces. "Who here has had some lightsaber practice?" He asked lightly, trying to make a game out of it.

No one volunteered themselves, but Anakin was expecting that. They were too fearful to brag at the moment. He had been watching their faces for a sign of recognition or brief excitement and had found it on a young Twi'lek girl. Making eye contact with her, he asked gently, "What's your name?"

"Sh-Shilah," she trembled.

Anakin held out the lightsaber to her kindly. "My old Master always told me this weapon is my life," he told her. "I know I can trust you with it, can't I?"

She looked like she was going to shake her head and refuse, but a spark of defiance shot through her eyes and her small hands wrapped around the hilt.

Anakin spared her a quick smile. "Good," he said quickly, not wasting another second to swing the Twi'lek down the squampus oval-ish hole to the floor below. Without hesitation, he lowered the nearest child within reach next, feeling his back spasm as he did so. Within seconds, all but the last youngling had been lowered. There was starting to be a bit more pressure on Anakin's Force bandage and dust was beginning to dislodge from above them, but Anakin didn't rush to move the youngling out of the rubble.

He was full on bawling, absolutely terrified that he was going to be left behind and completely unaware of the rescue attempt going on around him.

Anakin forced himself to ignore the child's screams and forget about the practically helpless younglings below them. He took several deep breaths, as deep as he could get in the dusty air, and centered himself in the Force. Allowing the power to thrum through him, and it was such a beautiful power too because it was lodged deeply in the good and the selfless, he turned his attention to the slab the rebar was attached to. Focusing his mind on the task, he told the object to lift. It was overtaxing to lift the slab, because it held the entire ceiling on top of it and an entire ceiling was too much for one person, it was too much for Anakin and didn't Obi-wan always tell him to know his limits and now he was going to drop the slab and kill them both because it was just too heavy.

Anakin continued to lift the weight centimeter by horrible centimeter until its weight had grinded off of the rebar and was only on Anakin and Force it hurt but still Anakin pulled the youngling away from the slab and toward the hole and lowered him gently down to the others waiting and he might have actually just shoved the child down but he can't tell because his head was splitting and his muscles straining and it was just too much weight.

Anakin tumbled through just as the ceiling came crashing down.

Crying.

There was crying and pleading and bawling. Anakin wasn't sure where he could possibly be that had such sounds, but he found himself to tired and too hurt to care. A young voice screams at another to shut up and stop crying, which only makes the bawling shift into despairing wails. The sound pierces into Anakin's skull like lightning and he flinches. He hasn't felt this horrible in a long time and he wished that the child would listen to whoever was telling it to shut up.

The wailing muffles, and Anakin relaxes again, because there's still crying and pleading and bawling, but at least the wailing had quieted.

There's a hand on his shoulder, shaking it timidly but insistently. Anakin ignores it.

"Master Skywalker please," a voice choked out, painful in its attempt at maturity despite its youth. It was distinctly feminine, but young. Very young. "We need you. Please. You can't be dead."

Dead? No, Anakin wasn't dead. Not yet.

"Please help us Master Skywalker," the voice whimpered. It was right beside his ear, and wasn't quite familiar but still was because Anakin suddenly remembered exactly where he was. Still, Anakin didn't move. He didn't feel he could, even if he wanted to. Everything felt so strained, and no wonder because what idiot tried to lift an entire building by himself? This is why Obi-wan was always lecturing him on not thinking his plans through.

Anakin was beginning to understand a lot of the reasons for Obi-wan's many lectures.

The shaking at his shoulder continued, but still he didn't move. He deserved a few minutes, he reasoned. They couldn't be in too much danger, he decided. He deserved this rest, just for a bit. The floor was cool against his cheek and soothed his aching head.

"Master Skywalker?" The voice broke and made way for a horrible whimper.

"please" Her voice was so small. It tore at Anakin's heart to hear such hopeful terror.

And the tears that weren't his own that dripped on his cheeks were torture, because they belonged to a terrified youngling that needed him.

The cries and screams and bawling all belonged to younglings that needed him. So, as despite how much he wanted to just go to sleep, Anakin began his attempt to rise. His fingers flex and scrape against the ground below him -or was it above him?- as he attempted to get a grip on the spinning world.

The voice above him gasps, and then there's something close to a laugh as a heavy weight throws itself on top of Anakin, completely impeding any attempt he could make to getting up. In truth, it was difficult to breathe and his bruised back was protesting angrily, but Anakin didn't care. Anything was better than the horrible despair he had been hearing earlier. A laugh was a near miracle.

Anakin pried his eyes open and caught sight of a green Twi'lek leg that could only belong to the weight crushing him but at the same time somehow lifting his spirits.

"Shilah..." Anakin muttered, his voice weak as he rapidly blinks to get a control on reality.

"Master Skywalker!" She replied, jubilation -yes, jubilation- lighting her voice. All the other despairing sounds from the other younglings had ceased, only the occasional sniff or whimper as background noise now.

"Shilah... you're... crushing me," Anakin managed to force out, seeing spots again from lack of air that he never really got back in the first place.

An innocent 'oh' marked the weight leaving his back and allowing his lungs full movement. Force, he was exhausted.

But still, Anakin forced his hands to move beneath his body and his arms to strain to lift him. Shilah, seeing his struggle, was quick to help move him into a sitting position resting against the wall. The movement left him dizzy and nauseated and he took a few seconds to reorient himself.

From his position, he could see the younglings crowded together in the hallway. They had given him and Shilah some space, but still remained safely close to the only adult that could help them. Tear tracks were making their way down all eight cheeks and the new shine in their eyes, the desperate hope that lit up every single one of them sent guilt shooting through Anakin. He shouldn't have waited so long to move for them. They were victims of one of the most traumatic events of the Jedi Order, with only one adult remaining to guide them and help them survive, and his reluctance to get up had terrified them beyond belief.

He offered Shilah a tired smile. A large smile lit up her own face. Without warning, he found himself with an armful of Twi'lek. And really, he didn't mind. One of Anakin's arms wrapped around her comfortingly. The other gestured to the other younglings, waving them closer. And soon, he found himself in a great bear hug of children and a laugh escaping his lips.

Anakin thought of Padme, and the child she carried for both of them. He wanted a chance to love his child... just like this.

He was going to survive. They all were.

They were hilariously close to Anakin and Obi-wan's quarters. Well, technically it was just Obi-wan's ever since Anakin was knighted, but the younger Jedi had never bothered to move out and Obi-wan had never bothered to kick him out so... yeah.

The fact made Anakin giddy with joy because, suffice it to say, he is well aware of many different ways to sneak away from this area. He knew exactly where he was going to take the younglings. They would use the same escape that Anakin used every time he went to visit Padme. Then they would go visit Padme. For the first time in all of this, things seemed to be looking up.

Anakin's reasons for choosing that specific pathway were completely logical and strategical, but that's not to say that all of them were completely selfless. Their route would take them past Anakin's room. There were a few things that he wanted to grab.

They were moving at a leisurely pace that allowed the younglings a rest from their unrelenting sprint and time to nurse their scratches and bruises.

He would be lying if he claimed the slow pace was entirely for the sake of the younglings. Quite simply, one did not simply walk away from an over-exertion in the Force like that without a severe headache and aching limbs. Anakin would recover quicker than most due to his connection to the Force, but it still hurt and made his actions a lot slower.

The over-exertion was hardly the only problem either. It had become clear as soon as they started walking that Anakin had wrenched his back pretty badly and lowering the kids out of that deathtrap had not helped things. It spasmed if he tried to look over his right shoulder too quickly.

He stopped them outside his room in the guise of a slight break where all of the younglings slid happily to the floor. Anakin only hoped that he would be able to get them moving again.

He slipped inside the room, leaving the door open so none of them would freak out at his absence. It didn't take long. He already knew what he was going to take. Qui-gon's lightsaber, which rested on a shelf in a glass box, was a given. A little metal box hidden under his bed, the contents of which were quickly transferred into his pocket before leaving the box behind. He rooted through the cupboards for the numerous medical supplies they kept in their quarters at all times -a necessity, considering that neither Anakin nor Obi-wan were very fond of medics or the Halls of Healing.

Anakin left the quarters without looking back.

He spent a brief moment to bandage the rebar youngling's (Anakin was too tired to remember anyone but Shilah's name. They didn't seem to mind.) arm better using actual medical supplies instead of Anakin's cloak. He bandaged a few more cuts that ranged into dangerous territory, and then they set off again.

The extra weight of Qui-gon's lightsaber at his side was a weight removed from his mind. Anakin had no explanation for it, but he had always felt that Qui-gon was watching over him, especially when the Master's lightsaber was near. Obi-wan had explained many times that one didn't retain individuality in the Force once they died, but the many lectures didn't make the feeling fade. So even if Anakin couldn't logically explain it, it still made him feel better.

The good feeling evaporated as they passed a hallway Anakin easily labeled as leading to the Archives.

He realized that, for the first time, the Archives were completely unprotected. No one was there to stop him from going into the restricted Holocron vault. Not for the first time, Anakin considered the possibility that the vault contained secrets not well-known to the Jedi Order. Even Sith secrets. Secrets that might be the key to saving Padme's life.

And if Anakin left without searching... he may never get the chance to save his wife and unborn child.

Anakin's thoughts were riotous all the way to the vent that would lead to the outside world. For the second time that day, he found himself plagued by an impossible decision. For the second time that day, he found himself having to choose between the Jedi Order and the love of his life; between selfless service or his own selfish desires.

The decision he was leaning towards was definitely not the Jedi way. But the Jedi way had never come easily to Anakin in the first place. He couldn't see any reason to start now.

So, when they arrived at the vent, despite the sounds of nearing troopers that Anakin could hear echoing down the hallways, Anakin hesitated.

He looked down at Shilah and saw the trust she had already placed in him. He could feel the inklings of a bond beginning to form between them. But when he closed his eyes, he saw his nightmare play behind his eyelids; watched Padme's life slip away as she called for her absent husband. His bond with Padme was much larger. It was more painful to watch his wife die than it was to part with the young Twi'lek.

He crouched down beside her, a sad, apologetic smile already twisting his lips. He took her small hand in his own, and reverently placed Qui-gon's lightsaber into Shilah's hand. He was reluctant to part with it because he believed that Qui-gon's lightsaber belonged with his legacy, which meant only Obi-wan or Anakin. But if Obi-wan survived his encounter with Grievous, which he did, Anakin was sure, despite his master's propensity for trouble-

-'It is not I who attracts trouble my young Padawan'-

-Obi-wan would be able to reclaim the saber once Shilah's group found Padme. If Anakin took it with him... he didn't want it lost in the Archives if he somehow didn't make it out. Anakin also found himself unwilling to leave Shilah and the others on their own without a weapon and was more reluctant to part with his than Qui-gon's. The Jedi Master's presence made him feel safe, yes, but if Anakin was going down, he was going down with his own lightsaber.

He heard the troopers coming. If they discovered the younglings while they were trapped in the confines of the vent... it would be worse than fish in a barrel.

"This is Master Qui-gon's lightsaber," he told Shilah quickly. "Do you know who that is?" He shouldn't be wasting time on a history lesson, but Shilah looked so terrified and he couldn't deny he already cared a great deal for the girl. He could only hope that the feeling of the Master watching over her and protecting her would help the youngling as much as it had helped him.

Shilah nodded slowly, the gears clearly cranking in her mind as to why Anakin would be telling her this.

Anakin curled her delicate fingers around it. "He will be with you every step of the way. You just need to be brave," he told her.

Her face crumbled as she realized what was going on. "Master Skywalker, are you leaving us?"

"I have to stay behind so they don't find you, Shilah," Anakin offered hesitantly, unwilling to paint himself as anything but selfless in her eyes. He knew that what he was doing, abandoning her like this for the sake of his wife, was despicably selfish. She didn't need to know that. It was enough that Anakin did. At least, that's what he told himself.

Shilah's tears grew larger and her breathing more erratic. She wasn't bawling yet, he could still fix this. Possibly.

"You are. Just like Master Gnocchi. You're gonna stay behind and then all of the clones will kill you and-"

"Hey, hey, hey," Anakin cut her hysterical rant of quickly, putting both of his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not gonna die. And you won't be alone. Remember, Master Qui-gon will be with you," he gestured to the saber, "and the Force is with you. That means I'll be with you too, in here," he pointed to her tiny, heaving chest. "You understand?"

She nodded jerkily. Her face was still blotchy with tears, but she at least looked a bit more composed than the general population of younglings behind her. Anakin stood and removed the grate.

"Follow this passage. Once you're to the outside, use this communicator," Anakin passed her his communicator and squeezed it into her hands as well, "and send for Padme Amidala. Tell her what's happened. She will help you, I promise."

Shilah, chin trembling, lunged forward and wrapped Anakin in a tight hug, shoving her face into his chest. Before he could react or return the hug, she pulled away and started helping the others into the vent.

Anakin's pride swelled as he realized how much the girl had matured in only a few hours. She was truly amazing. She wasn't like Ahsoka, Anakin thought, at least not from what he had seen. It was always possible that she was a snarky fireball on days when the entire Order isn't being slaughtered, he consented. But still, even though she wasn't much like Ahsoka in personality, Anakin wouldn't have minded taking her as a Padawan either.

Such thoughts were foolish, Anakin knew. He would have left or been expelled from the Order as soon as Padme had the baby if this hadn't happened. Not to mention that Anakin doubted he was really Master material, considering where his last Padawan ended up.

He couldn't have taken her as a Padawan in any life, but he still wanted her to be proud of him in this one. It was stupid, but he wanted someone to remember who Anakin Skywalker was when he was at his best, when he was helping people. So, even though his motivations for leaving her were selfish, he would make the act as selfless as possible. He would lead the clones away like he had told her he would. Then he would head to the Archives.

It wasn't just Shilah he wanted to be proud of him, Anakin realized. He also wanted to be a man that his child could be proud of, especially because it was looking more and more like he won't be able to be a father.

The Force screamed, and a blaster shot shattered Anakin's thoughts like fragile glass. A youngling crumpled to the ground and didn't move again. Her lost life pierced another part of Anakin's heart as it left its shell.

He turned on his heel, a snarl twisting his lips in fury as he turned to face the incoming clones, whose footsteps he could have sworn were still many hallways away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really love cliffhangers. I know I just collapsed a ceiling on him, but this whole thing is going to get a whole lot worse for Anakin. This whole story is typed and available on FanFiction.net under the same title. I'm gonna post a chapter a day. Love all your comments! Don't worry, we haven't heard the last from the new knights.


	3. Fester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dark Side digs its roots further into Anakin, and the question if he will survive this betrayal begins to grow. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel in the form of a grouchy librarian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously:
> 
> The Force screamed, and a blaster shot shattered Anakin's thoughts like fragile glass. A youngling crumpled to the ground and didn't move again. Her lost life pierced another part of Anakin's heart as it left its shell.
> 
> He turned on his heel, a snarl twisting his lips in fury as he turned to face the incoming clones, whose footsteps he could have sworn were still many hallways away.

Curse the one who promoted inventiveness and initiate in clone troopers.

Oh wait. That was Anakin. And Obi-wan. Plo might've encouraged it a bit too. But mostly, it was Anakin.

Anakin was to blame for the clones' plan to trick his senses into believing they were much farther away. It was Anakin's fault the clones had silently rounded the corner without him noticing. No doubt the Force had been telling him this whole time, but he hadn't noticed, because he was too busy fantasizing about being a worthy Jedi.

If anyone wanted to hate Anakin for wasting time with comforts and selfish desires and causing the death of another innocent child, they could.

It was alright.

Anakin already hated himself for more than that.

"Get in the vent! Shilah, get them out of here," Anakin ordered, using one arm to shove her into the vent while the other was occupied in defense. Once she was inside, the Knight stepped to the center of the hallway, carefully avoiding stepping on the small limbs of the fallen youngling.

A surge of hate welled up inside him as the clones went for a charging tactic to overwhelm him and get more angles at the kids. He scoffed darkly, knowing that he had taught them better than that. Anakin wouldn't go down that easily. Especially not now. He was determined to make them pay. Anakin had promised the kids that they would make it out, and now one of them wouldn't ever see the light of day again. They had broken his promise. So they would pay with their lives.

Three of the children hadn't made it into the vent, but Anakin couldn't wait for them to lift themselves in. The clones' advance meant that Anakin either needed to retreat or surge forward and close the distance, which would open up the hallway.

He wasn't planning on running.

"The rest of you! Run! Down the hallway! Shilah, close the vent and go!"

"But, Master!" Shilah protested, still waiting in the entrance of the vent. When he didn't reply, she moved to get out of it entirely, unwilling to leave him or the others behind, though what she hoped to accomplish was beyond Anakin. Patience and time running on empty, the Knight growled and sent her flying deep into the vent with a harsh Force push, collapsing the vent with his saber in the next moment.

It wasn't an impregnable defense, but it would delay any troopers long enough for the younglings to escape.

It would prove unnecessary as well, because Anakin wasn't planning on leaving alive anyone who knew about the young refugees.

The thing about revenge, and the hate that fueled it, was that it was often a very selfish desire. The largest difference between the Sith and the Jedi was always selfish versus selfless. Anakin's anger was entirely selfish. He could feel the darkness thrumming through him because of it.

If there was ever a time Anakin needed the steadying nudges of the Force guiding his every instinctual move, this was it. But he couldn't feel the Light; it was blocked by the thick tar of the Dark Side sliding through him like disgusting oil. If he would just accept the Dark, then he would be able to call its power to his every whim. But Anakin was terrified of the Dark, so he kept reaching past it for the Light.

So when the Force, laden down by hate and anger and suffering, only sluggishly responded to his summons, bringing with it the icy cold of death that left Anakin longing for the heat of Tattooine, Anakin found himself struggling to defend such a wide area in such a small space. His lightsaber was repeatedly caught and slowed down by the walls, his range of movement limited to stepping forward or backward.

The bolt hit him in the shoulder. It sent his singed muscles spasming and cracked bone.

But the worst damage it did was knock him aside.

The hallway opened wide as Anakin stumbled against the wall, leaving the three remaining younglings defenseless. Three terrified cries echoed in the hallway.

Seeing red was an understatement. Anakin had been seeing red since Palpatine revealed himself as a Sith. Red was not a foreign color to him.

No, the rage that he felt at his own pain and the pain of failing his charges was more than just 'seeing red'. The Force, not laden down by hate but fueled by it, happily wrapped around the troopers' throats and constricted. The next moment, the troopers had choked to death on their own blood, and the hallway was left silent.

When the guilt hit, all Anakin could feel was exhaustion.

The internal fight he had been struggling in for years, the fight to deny emotions, to be a good Jedi that would make his master proud, no longer seemed to have a point. The young Jedi Knight felt he was spiraling deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of emotion, and pain and hate and suffering were just dragging him down, the speed of his descent increasing the longer that he was in the Temple. He felt like he had been fighting a losing battle and had just lost a key part of himself, but he was just too tired and too angry to care anymore.

The Jedi way wasn't working. Anakin had no doubt that it was strong. But it was strong in the hands of calm and good Force users like Yoda and Obi-wan.

Anakin... Anakin wasn't that. As much as he wanted to be. He would always have darkness. He would always have to reach past it to drag the Light to his call.

Anakin had this darkness. But... why did the darkness have to be such a bad thing? Look how he used it. Look how powerful it made him. Clones that he had struggled with were now dead at his feet. Was the darkness really so bad if it gave him the power for vengeance like with the Tuskans, or justice with these child murdering traitors?

Was there even a point to the battle waged inside of him? The Jedi way was wrong. It was deficient. It couldn't save Padme. It couldn't save these younglings. It held him back from his true powers. Why battle hate when it could fuel-

"Master Skywalker?" The tiny voice sliced through his dark thoughts like light pierces shadows. It was terrified, hesitant and oh so innocent. It was good. It was also on the verge of a tearful breakdown.

Anakin's vision cleared. Mechanically, the hand holding his newest injury pulled away and his sight locked on the bright blood saturating the glove. His attention traveled slowly, with growing dread, to the clone troopers bodies sprawling on the ground. From where he was, Anakin could see the demented armor crushing the bodies windpipes. He felt sick.

"M-Master Skywalker?" The tiny, almost inaudible voice repeated.

"I..." Anakin started, finding his voice weak as he turned his attention on the youngling -a surviving youngling!- that was hesitantly pulling at his tunic. His shoulder was beginning to throb painfully, finally catching up with current events. Anakin had to admit that his brain was still a bit slow in that sense. He barely suppressed a grimace as he returned his hand to the wound and, under the guise of putting pressure on it, curled his fingers deep into the wound and sending shooting pain down his arm and side. His mind cleared a bit more, so he allowed himself to dig in even harder.

"It's okay," Anakin managed to tell the youngling, lowering himself in to a crouch to be eye level with him. "Are you alright?"

The youngling nodded tentatively, new tears springing into his eyes as he avoided looking at his fallen friends. Anakin sent a gentle probe out in the Force, a small hope that the some of the others had survived burning in his chest. The small flame was extinguished as soon as he touched each of the bodies, for they were just that. Bodies.

"Talia protected me." The youngling whimpered.

Anakin wasn't sure which one of the fallen was Talia, but he still sent out his gratitude and apologies to her.

"It's okay," Anakin said again, ignoring the failure and guilt that was building on his shoulders and crushing him.

'Pushing emotions down will only let them fester. It is releasing them to the Force that brings a Jedi true peace.' Obi-wan's voice reminded Anakin. He ignored that too, and shoved it all deep beneath a cocky smile.

"I know a few more ways we can get out of here. Then we'll meet up with Shilah and Jayden's groups again."

His mission to the Archives would have to wait. He may have been willing to abandon the group, but he couldn't leave this one youngling all on his own. Anakin would get him somewhere safe, and then he would get the information he needed.

"But, Master Skywalker, you're hurt," the youngling whimpered.

"I'll be alright," Anakin told him easily. "We need to get going though."

The youngling nodded but didn't move to follow Anakin once he stood. The Knight sighed and crouched down, wincing as his back protested the movement. "Are you alright? What is it?" Anakin forced himself to ask kindly and patiently, instead of snapping it out like he felt like doing.

The youngling was shaking, his vacant expression staring into the wall. Eventually, his traumatized eyes traveled up to meet Anakin's. "Cold. It was so cold. And dark. But mostly cold. In here." The youngling gestured to his chest, spending a few fascinated seconds looking down at it as if a second head was growing there. Anakin felt a chill down his back as the youngling asked, "What was it Master Skywalker?"

Anakin's throat was dry as he answered, "Something bad." He found himself unwilling to admit exactly how far he had fallen in his moment of rage. "I sensed it too. If you feel something like that again, no matter where you are or what you are doing, something is wrong. And you need to remember to be very careful. Especially around strangers. Do you understand?"

He nodded hesitantly even as his mouth opened with another question. "Master, what is the feeling? Why do I need to be careful?"

Anakin hesitated. He stood, unable to meet the youngling's innocent eyes any longer. "There's no time for me to explain that. Right now, we need to worry about getting out of here."

Grasping the youngling's hand to assure that he would remain at Anakin's side, Anakin turned down the hallway leading away from the Archives. After a few stunned seconds, the child's grip tightened around Anakin's hand.

Anakin dedicated a new diligence to his surroundings, paying special attention to every fluctuation in the Force. It was difficult -he still hadn't recovered from his over-exertion and his inner peace was a complete wreck- but he wasn't willing to make the same mistake twice and allow troopers to sneak up on them.

Focused as he was on his surroundings, there was no way to miss the flare in the Force and the five lights it originated from. Anakin couldn't feel if they were clones or not; the massacres of the Temple had blinded him to the Dark and Light like smoke saturating the hallways. The Knight hesitated to go to the presences, remembering all too well how untrustworthy his senses were, and how cunning the troopers had proved themselves to be. It could easily be trap that Anakin just couldn't sense.

He almost moved past the corridor that would lead to them, whoever they were, but drew to a stop at the intersection. Obi-wan's cocky smile (which he would deny ever existing until the day he died) and flippant remark about their policy on traps flashed to the forefront of Anakin's mind. The Knight couldn't help but smile as he reminded himself that it was the Kenobi/Skywalker way to spring traps like it was an ordinary afternoon, which it usually was, much to Anakin's amusement.

Anakin spared a glance down at his small charge. Then he pivoted on his heel and made his journey down the corridor, his lightsaber in one hand and the child's hand in the other.

He felt the flares growing closer and closer and clamped down on his own Force signature, hiding it in the Dark smoke that crowded the hallways and insisted on clinging to him. A few steps more. Just around the corner...

Anakin's saber sprung to life in his hand as he whirled to face his opponent, pushing the child directly behind him to protect him from assault. Another lightsaber hissed to life in the same moment, already making its way towards Anakin's chest. The Knight barely managed to parry the blow and moved back a few steps to regroup and identify his foe.

His saber deactivated as he quickly realized that it definitely wasn't a foe.

"Madam Jocasta," Anakin acknowledged. The wise librarian, pale and with a sheen of sweat on her forehead, led the procession of four others; a Jedi Knight around Anakin's age, two Padawans, one of which carrying a small humanoid that couldn't be more than five years old. They all looked traumatized, as seemed to be a recurring theme in all of the massacre survivors; their expressions were vacant with shock or laden down with so much fear that they were drowning in it. Madam Jocasta managed to maintain her tranquility, even with a small head would streaming dust blood into her yes and an eternally sad look dampening her eyes.

"Master Skywalker," she replied, something close to relief coloring her voice as she also deactivated her lightsaber. "It's comforting to see that you have escaped the same fate as the others. And to see a surviving youngling... I'm truly glad you managed to protect this one."

"There were others," Anakin told her as he instinctively accepted the fist that the youngling shoved into his palm and squeezing it reassuringly. "I was initially with Master Gnocchi and the Jedi assembled near the learning halls. Many Padawans and younglings escaped the firefight there. Aala took a group and I took the other."

"And the others in your group?" Madam Jocasta asked, already looking ten years older as her eyes fell on the remaining child and she assumed the worst.

"Padawan Kilsek and fifteen others were separated from me when the ceiling collapsed. I don't know if they got out."

An image of Jayden splayed unceremoniously across the ground alongside the others that were with him, riddled with blaster wounds to the point of disfigurement, flashed across Anakin's thoughts. He shook the image away and buried it deep with his other fears, feeling slightly dizzy from his concussion and a headache making its way into migraine territory.

"I got four other younglings into a vent that leads out of the Temple with instructions to contact Senator Amidala; I'm certain she's trustworthy. But we were attacked before the rest could escape. I-" Anakin swallowed as he recalled the clones' armor crushed into their necks. "This one was the only survivor."

Madam Jocasta, despite the sympathy in her eyes, said nothing to comfort or praise him, for which he was very grateful.

"Madam Jocasta..." His voice came out weak and desperate, both of which he couldn't afford at the moment, so he brought some of his anger and determination to the surface to strengthen his voice and add the confident air he usually managed easily. A sinister voice encouraged him, telling him to use his anger, let it strengthen him until it made him invincible. "May I speak with you privately?" He forged ahead with a strong voice, stubbornly ignoring the voice even as it sent doubt churning in his stomach.

Her eyes narrowed slightly in confusion and maybe the slightest bit of suspicion, but she nodded and led the way down the hallway until they were out of hearing distance.

"Have you heard from anyone else; any other Masters or Jedi outside the Temple? Did Obi-wan report about Grievous before the clones arrived?"

It was a desperate hope. Even if Obi-wan had managed to defeat Grievois and report back in the short time before the clones invaded the Temple, Madam Jocasta would have been in the Archives. Still, the wise woman often seemed omnipotent, (an impression helped by the fact that she was a trusted member of the Order and good friends with many in the Temple) and Anakin was finding himself in need of his old Master's steadfast courage and light beside him as the situation continued to deteriorate.

But she was already shaking her head. "I'm afraid I've heard nothing regarding Master Kenobi. However, considering that there has been no help from our deployed Jedi, I think we must assume their clones have also turned on them," her hardened eyes met Anakin's with an anger that was very out of place on the kindly woman's features, "and most of them are probably dead."

Anakin immediately thought of Cody, and the tight bond Obi-wan had established with the Commander. He simply couldn't imagine the brave and loyal man ever betraying his general.

But Anakin couldn't defend the clone, couldn't hold Cody apart from the mass betrayal. After all... it was Anakin's own troops that were slaughtering innocent younglings and their Jedi comrades. If the men he trusted and treated as friends were able to stab their General and dozens of others in the back, a clones' loyalty and courage didn't seem to mean much in the long run.

So Anakin simply nodded tightly in agreement with Jocasta's assumption.

"We need to get out of here and regroup," the young Knight called from where their group was waiting for Jocasta and Anakin to finish speaking. He was probably Anakin's age. The weary Chosen One didn't feel young. He felt he was withering into bone-dry dust.

Again, Anakin nodded in agreement, turning back to her. "He's right. You do need to leave."

She raised one unimpressed eyebrow. "I do? And what do you think you'll be doing while we escape?"

"I'll look for any other survivors and help them escape as well," Anakin told her, the lie easy on his tongue.

"And the young one?"

The question drew Anakin up short. "He'll go with you," he answered, feeling it was fairly obvious.

"Master Skywalker, if you leave that child with us, he will die," she told him coldly. "I have an injured Knight and Padawan, and a defenseless youngling to shepherd through enemy infested hallways. You just brought another. And you think you are leaving us for some foolish mission? I don't know what you are actually planning on doing, but it can wait until you have helped me ensure the safety of all of them."

Anakin closed his eyes. She was right. He couldn't abandon them until he knew they were all safe.

"Alright," he agreed. Scanning their surroundings, he made a mental map of the Temple in his mind. He had been taking the kid to the exit near the training grounds, but Jocasta's group had come from that way and it was clearly too populated with clones to get near. He cursed mentally as he realized they would have to double back to the creche room with a water access grate in the closet. It would be a tight fit -Anakin wasn't even sure it was wide enough for him to walk straight- and the water would go up to the youngling's waist, but it was the closest escape he could come up with.

"There's a water pipeline under one of the classrooms. It'll be cold and wet, but it leads to an outside water source," Anakin told Jocasta.

"No. We can't go there," she told him mildly, explaining gently, "not all of us are fit enough to fight the current, especially not in the narrow tunnels you're suggesting."

"Madam, it's the closest exit we have. We can't afford to cross the entire building in search for another one," Anakin protested, anger rising at her being so quick to throw out his proposal.

Alright, so clearly he was having issues with authority at the moment, but he couldn't say his anger was without good reason. How many times had the council thrown out his ideas and suggestions simply because he had been the one to voice them?

Madam Jocasta was laughing, unaware or uncaring of his rising anger. Before he could snap at her -something he undoubtedly would have regretted- she explained herself, a mischievous smile still playing on her lips. "You think you are the only one aware of the Temple's many secret nooks and crannies, Master Skywalker?" she asked wryly. Anakin, too shocked to reply, felt his anger vanish as easily as it had appeared. "You are not the first Padawan to seek escape from his Master, child. And I have been around far longer than you." Chuckling quietly, the librarian folded her arms into her sleeves. "There is an exit just past the main hall," she told him.

A new respect for the wise librarian stirred in Anakin as he stated, no small degree of admiration coloring his voice, that there would be clones blocking their path.

She replied, with a confidence verging on cockiness, that it was a good thing he had chosen to stay with them then, and that they could handle a few clones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, about the Force. The complexities of the Light and Dark side of the Force are really interesting. Both sides claim it is stronger than the other. And, sure, no one wants to admit their way is worse than the other, but I don't believe one side can really be stronger than the other. I mean, it's the balance of the universe. If there was too much Darkness or Light, the universe would go kaplooey.
> 
> So, I figure the strength of each side of the Force depends on a couple of factors:
> 
> The place- some places are probably just stronger in different types of the Force due to location and history. This would explain why the Jedi and Sith put their Temples in random spots. They feel it is stronger there. The history of the place probably influences the Force of the place too. If there was a massacre with lots of Sith-like anger and hate long ago, you can bet it would still sorta be hanging around.
> 
> The circumstance- like in this fic, some circumstances are probably better for Sith and Jedi Force users than others. The Temple is the place of a massacre, and there's a lot of anger and hate and despair floating in the air. So the Dark Side is more powerful in this sense. I wouldn't say this influences it too much, but for someone like Anakin who is able to link to the Dark Side easily, it makes the Dark Side seem like a better option.
> 
> The person- there are probably just some people who are better at linking with the Light side than the Dark side. And vise versa. If someone like Palpatine (shudders) were to try to link to the Light Side, it would probably be more difficult, like reaching across the table for some salt when it is right in front of you. Same with someone like Obi-wan and Yoda. That's why, even when the circumstance and place is more Dark side based, Yoda and Obi-wan will still go for the Light side, because it is still closer even with those other factors.
> 
> Buts for someone like Anakin, the Chosen One of the Force, the salt shakers are equal distance to him. He was trained in the Light side, so that's where he naturally reaches. But sometimes the circumstance and the place move the Dark side salt closer, so he goes for that one instead because it is easier. And in battle, reaching further for the Light side salt doesn't seem the best idea for life and death situations.
> 
> Anyway, I'm done rambling about the Force that I know nothing about. Just trying to explain how I see it so the story makes sense.
> 
> Madam Jocasta is hard to write. Is she a kind librarian or is she a take no bullcrap warrior? Both? I like the idea that she knows about all the secret passageways because she was once a rebellious teen herself and also because other padawans and younglings may have confided in her. And I imagine several masters also found they needed to escape secretly for a few hours.


	4. Reckless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Good soldiers follow orders, General."

The youngling was gripping Anakin's hand tightly, and he didn't seem to want to let go anytime soon. Jocasta had to pry his tiny fingers away from Anakin's and forcibly drag him aside so that the Knight was able to bandage Anakin's shoulder without the youngling getting in the way. He was crying the entire five minutes it took for the Knight to finish Anakin's battlefield treatment.

The second the Knight stepped back and Jocasta loosened her grip, the youngling went flying back to Anakin, gripping his tunic with whitened knuckles, his face buried into Anakin's side. Tears wetted the fabric, and Anakin offered the other two adults a sheepish grin.

The main hall obviously led to the main entrance. It struck Anakin as hilariously funny, as they snuck down the hallway, that they were bypassing the large exit in favor of an air conditioning vent. He figured he was getting delirious, because it wasn't even that funny; it was just common sense. They would be slaughtered as soon as they peeked a toe anywhere near those large doors. Of course, if Anakin was alone, he probably would have gone for it just to spite Obi-wan. And his Old Master would have been on his heels, lecturing all the while.

A small smile tugged at Anakin's lips, and he barely managed to shake it and the wild daydream away. The Knight glanced at Anakin's quick movement, a question in his creased brow. He raised an arching eyebrow in reply, and the Knight's attention flew to the ceiling as if there was a nest of gundarks lurking above. Glancing up to make sure there really wasn't a sixteen clawed beast in the rafters, Anakin figured he probably was delirious. He was certainly sleep deprived enough to be medically classified as suffering from delirium. How many days had it been since he had actually slept? Three? Five?

Clones patrolled the hall, but the groups were sporadic and infrequent. Clearly, the majority of the squadron was still dispersed throughout the Temple, cleaning out the remaining Jedi. It was a large Temple, with many hiding places, and the clone numbers had no doubt been reduced drastically during their attack. When the clone patrols did come along, the group was able to hide behind the many great pillars and fade into the background. The clones didn't bother to sweep their surroundings as well as they should; after all, what idiot would expose himself to such an open hallway?

Jocasta and her idiots would.

It was perfect. It was hiding in plain sight. And they didn't run into trouble as they sprinted down the hallway, making their way for the corridor that would provide an exit for them.

That was, until the sounds of combat echoed through the hallways. They heard blasters going off near the entrance and halted in their steps.

"Skywalker, no!"

Anakin didn't even realize he had taken off until Madam Jocasta called after him, but he didn't stop his sprint for the entrance. He did slow enough to call over his shoulder something about meeting them in the corridor in a few minutes. The next second, he was out of range of the loud whispers they had been calling to each other in, and any attempt for Jocasta to order him back, would call attention to their group.

He had just caught sight of the white clone armor when he felt a motion beside him, accompanied by a sharp pain in the back of his head that sent him reeling. Stumbling twice before regaining his balance, Anakin's head snapped to the side with a force that nearly had him stumbling again. His finger, hovering above his lightsaber switch, twitched spastically as his prepared to confront his attacker.

Madam Jocasta ran beside him, staring him down with a mastered disapproving glare that would have sent any lesser Jedi running for cover. Anakin settled for giving her a slightly sheepish grin. The Knight, an exaggerated limp breaking his step, ran on Jocasta's other side.

The huddled mass of white armor with blue markings rippled like a wave. A brown Jedi cloak flashed through the crack momentarily before it was swallowed up again by the circling clones. They had developed a system for Jedi slaughter by now. The precision of all of their movements, the confident manner they held themselves, as the troops surrounded the Jedi, several carrying riot shields already hot with scorch marks from the Jedi's 'saber, spoke of the many Jedi they had faced to perfect the system.

It made Anakin sick, and brought that anger straight to the surface once again. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jocasta watching him closely with an indistinguishable look on her face, but he ignored it. The large doors of the main exit were just beyond the scuffle. If they could just make it past, then they could make it out.

Movement from the ceiling caught his attention instead, and Anakin silently cursed.

The 501st was definitely maintaining its reputation as the most innovative battalion of the clone army. Anakin knew without a doubt that they wouldn't make it to the doors if they tried.

The Jedi yelped as a blaster clipped him, and his green lightsaber wavered.

Anakin came up with one of his improvised plans.

He barely had time to question his own sanity before he was leaping forward, crashing shoulder first into the circling clones' backs and sending an entire section of them to the ground in a tangle of limbs. There were several shouts from all of the clones as they registered the new threat, but Anakin was already springing away from the heaping mass of troopers and towards one of the shield-bearing clones still standing. True to training, the clone raised the shield between Anakin and himself. Anakin's foot landed lightly on the shield, only touching it for a second before shooting off of it, up into the air, with enough strength to leave his stepping stone stumbling wildly into his fellow clones. His feet came in contact with a pillar, and then he was pushing off further up into the air. Another pillar, higher up this time.

He was about halfway to the ceiling, and the clones waiting in ambush up there, dangling from grappling hooks with silencers on their blasters, started to fire. Anakin pushed off the pillar, feeling a blast hit where he was only seconds ago. Down below, he was vaguely aware of Jocasta, the Knight and the other Jedi fighting off the ground forces, but the five on the ceiling were some of the most accurate troops in the 501st, and he couldn't afford to hesitate as he made his way up to the ceiling using the pillars as stepping stones.

At least he was drawing their fire, because his fellow Jedi down below would be like fish in a barrel with blasts coming from all sides.

Finally, with one last push, Anakin was flying through empty air. Gravity began to take effect, and he felt himself begin to descend, and it was a long way down. His lightsaber flashed, a clone cried out in pain and slumped, and then his hand was grasping the grappling rope, his feet balancing on the clone's dangling body as the cord twisted to face the remaining four clones.

Their shots at him had stopped. They just watched him, their muscles lax and their guns resting easily at their sides. There was an odd moment of stillness, broken only by the sounds of combat below. Anakin wondered if they knew their lives were already forfeit, and they just weren't willing to spend their last moments in a futile struggle. It didn't seem very clone-like behavior, but it didn't really matter in the end. They were dead from the moment they first betrayed his trust.

Three more dead clones and an severed arm later, Anakin's face was mere inches from the last clone's helmet. He recognized the markings easily. Jesse always was a severely patriotic clone, bearing the emblem of the Galactic Republic on his helmet and tattooed on his head.

"Heya Jesse," Anakin said, something dark twisting his lips into a sneer.

"General," Jesse grunted semi-tranquilly. Minus one arm and Anakin's full weight was digging into his thigh as they both dangled from the same grappling cord, Jesse could always keep himself steady in a pinch. That was one of the reasons Anakin had recruited him.

"Where's Commander Appo, Jesse?"

"Can't say I know, Sir."

"Is that a lie, Jesse?"

"I wouldn't tell you even if it was, Sir."

Loyalty even in the face of death. Anakin had to admire that. He always had. He just wished that loyalty had extended to him.

"Why?" He wasn't asking about Jesse's zipped lips.

"Good soldiers follow orders, General."

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment. "You always were a good soldier." It was so veiled in sarcasm that Anakin couldn't tell if it was a compliment or an underhand insult.

"Yes sir." Jesse didn't seem to know either.

Wordlessly, Anakin shoved his lightsaber into Jesse's heart- if he even had one.

The large double doors creaked open, throwing the lights of Coruscant into the Temple. Beyond, Anakin saw several dozen clones guarding the exit, some of which were already heading to support the troops inside. They would overwhelm the Jedi in seconds.

Much as he hated it (it really wasn't his style), they needed to make a retreat. Fast.

They needed a distraction. Anakin's eyes lit on the pillars, speckled in charred marks from the clones' blasters, and he got another idea.

What was that Obi-wan always said about being reckless?

Anakin leapt onto the nearest pillar, driving his lightsaber deep into the stone. For a moment, it stuck. Then, Anakin jerked, and it tore a path through the stone as he slid back into the conflict below. He was about two thirds down when clones noticed him and started to fire. Anakin resisted the urge to tear his lightsaber out of the stone to deflect the bolts. He was forced to dodge as he fell, his descent only partially slowed by the lightsaber's cutting path through the pillar. Three meters from the ground, and the lightsaber was ripped viciously from the stone, leaving a deep gouge in its wake.

He made his way closer to where the other three Jedi were. The din of battle destroyed his words before they even made it past his lips, but Jocasta must have heard his shout, because her analytical eyes found Anakin through the mass of troopers. Anakin spared a moment to gesture at the pillar, and then frantically wave them in the opposite direction.

Her eyes narrowed and she said something that might have been along the lines of "Are you insane!?"

Anakin replied, "Definitely," even if he didn't think she could hear him. She managed to spare the time to throw her hands up in exasperation before directing the other two into a full on sprint down the hallway.

Anakin focused on the pillar, and tugged. Except it clearly needed more than a tug, because the pillar and the ceiling it supported were probably heavier than the rubble he had lifted earlier. He hesitated as the reminiscent pains in his head reminded him of the consequences of overusing the Force. And then Jocasta was beside him, a vein bulging in her forehead as she pulled at the pillar. Anakin once again focused on the pillar, and, this time, yanked. A sharp pain shot through his head, his vision blacked out. And then he was running, Jocasta pulling him as the pillar crumbled and huge blocks of stone began to tumble from the tilting pillar that was falling, falling, falling...

The pillar fell, and the room exploded in a whirlwind of dust and stone.

When the dust cleared and the surviving clones searched for their targets, the Jedi were long gone.

They didn't escape without casualties. They were lucky to escape at all. Obi-wan always did say that Anakin's reckless behavior would only put him and his comrades at risk. It's just... Anakin didn't often have to actually pay that price.

The Jedi Master that Anakin had risked everything to save wouldn't make it anyway. He would die, drowning in his own blood.

The blaster wound Jocasta took to the side was pointless. Pointless and possibly deadly. The Master would die. Jocasta might live. If she was lucky.

The Knight was patching her up now. He said she would probably live. If she got actual medical attention.

Score one for the good team.

Anakin was once again fighting a ferocious headache that made him want to curl in a ball. Whether it was from pulling the pillar down or because of the concussion that caused blood to rivulet over one eye, he wasn't sure. Instead of hiding from reality (which seriously sucked at the moment), he was helping the Master keep his blood inside his body long enough for him to give them much needed answers, and doing a bad job of it. There was more violet blood on the floor and Anakin's robes than actually in the Jedi.

"I-" The Master choked, a purplish liquid filling his mouth as he convulsed in tremendous shudders. Anakin struggled to hold the strong man still and simultaneously keep pressure on the wound that was bubbling with that purple blood. In between pants, the Jedi managed to stutter out, "I thought… we… we were… safe. T-... the war… over…" Any other speech was halted by another bout of coughs and wheezing.

Anakin and Jocasta exchanged confused looks, hers so glazed over with pain that she barely managed to hold his eyes for more than a second.

"Master… why did you think the war was over? Who told you this?" Anakin asked, shaking the Jedi when his eyes began to drift closed. The master didn't have long before he joined the Force. There was nothing Anakin could do to stop that. It was cruel to deny the man refuge from his pain in the Force, to use his last moments for questioning rather than fulfillment, but something told him he needed to know, that many lives could be saved from the Master's answer.

"Tr- transmission…" the master muttered, "fr- from t-temple…" he fell silent, and then he was gone.

"A transmission from the Temple saying the war is over?" Anakin repeated, trying to work out how and why the Master would have received such a message.

"It makes perfect sense," the Knight muttered. At Anakin's confused look, he elaborated with a begrudgingly respectful tone. "You go home when a war is over. A transmission like that would draw any remaining Jedi right into the Temple, and the clones waiting within."

"Like him," Anakin realized.

"Like him," the Knight agreed. "Smart."

"And very dangerous," Jocasta added. "A transmission like that will lead many to their deaths."

"Is there something we can do? A warning we can send?" The Knight asked.

Anakin and Jocasta made eye contact, and came to a decision instantly.

"The best thing we could do is stop the transmission," Anakin said.

"If they managed to send messages to everyone on the Jedi frequency, the clones must have access to their communicators' locators," Jocasta added.

Anakin nodded in agreement. "If we don't delete all that information, any remaining Jedi will be slaughtered.

"And gaining access to the databases will also allow us to delete important records."

"If I can access the Jedi server, I could slice into Palpatine's records and delete those as well."

Jocasta frowned at Anakin. "You? What make you think you will be there, child?"

Anakin's reply came easily, complete with a cocky grin. "The fact that I'm the most qualified, Madam."

"You are not the only one with 'tech savvy', Skywalker."

"I know. But, out of the two of us, I'm the one more likely to make it into the communications room in the first place," he cut off her protest quickly, "and you are much too injured to argue the point."

It would be dangerous. Very dangerous. There was probably not a place in the entire Temple more guarded by clones at the moment than Communications. However, the prospect of danger was never a way to dissuade Anakin from something. In the case of his own life, he was The Hero With No Fear. Or, as Obi-wan called it, the Hero With No Common Sense. Anakin often found it could be interchangeable when it came to battle.

Anakin Skywalker feared many things. Accomplishing this self-assigned mission was not one of them. Just getting the message out to Obi-wan seemed impossible, let alone getting out alive.

Obi-wan once said something when he didn't know that Anakin was listening. 'But for Anakin Skywalker, the completely impossible had an eerie way of being merely difficult.' Anakin quite had to agree.

He was the only one who could do this with any chance of survival.

"As if you don't have injuries yourself," she argued anyway. "Don't think I haven't noticed the blood waterfalling from your shoulder. And don't even get me started on that concussion..."

He shot a cocky grin smile at her. "Waterfall is a bit of an exaggeration, Master, don't you think?"

Her expression fell. The old master could easily recognize the look of someone hell bent on a task, especially a foolish one. And she knew Anakin too well to expect him to ever back down. "Anakin, you know that whoever goes… probably won't come back."

"I understand Madam Jocasta."

"That is why I should go instead. You have much more to offer the world than an old woman far past her prime."

"Madam Jocasta, your wisdom will be far more helpful to the remaining Jedi than my brash arrogance will ever be." Anakin laid a hand on her shoulder, a new determination burning in him. "My Master is out there. I know it. He's in danger as long as Sidious has that information. I need to do this."

She held his eyes for a long time, her defiance fading into the deep sadness that weighed on her shoulders. "You are a very courageous man, Knight Skywalker," she conceded. "Your old master should be very proud."

A smile danced on Anakin's lips. "Oh, he is. When he's not exasperated at my stupidity."

She replied dryly, "I can't imagine that happens often."

Anakin laughed, went to stand, hesitated, and sank back into a crouch beside her.

After another moment of hesitation, he reached for the thick cord draped around his neck and hiding under his collar.

It was torture to pull the necklace off and into view. The ever-present warmth seemed to be the only thing keeping his soul from freezing entirely. Just lifting it from his neck made him shiver.

A small, gold ring hung at the end of the cord, resting in his hand as he drew what last comfort and love he could from it.

He tore his eyes off of the cherished ring, and met Jocasta's confused eyes. As he held her gaze, the confusion turned to shock, and she seemed to grow even paler.

"I-" he started, his voice once again cracking under the weight of emotion. His nightmare, Padme dying in agony with Anakin nowhere in sight, flashed before his eyes, and he squeezed them shut to block it out. What if he was fulfilling the dream? If he did this, he probably wouldn't be there for her when she gave birth to his child. He wouldn't be there to save her. A selfish part of him whispered dangerously in his ear, telling him to abandon the Jedi that had always mistreated him and do everything in his power to save his wife. To go to Palpatine and beg him to teach him to save her.

He almost did it. He almost stood up and abandoned his comrades. Force knows just how close he was.

But that wasn't who he wanted to be. It wasn't the man that Padme loved. If he left the Jedi to their fate and turned to the Sith, she would never be able to look at him again.

He would lose her. Not just her. But Obi-wan too. His brother. He would betray everything they beveled in and stomp on their trust in him. He wouldn't do that. He would do what was right. Even if it meant he would never meet his child. Padme would survive whatever life threw at her. And Obi-wan would take care of his family. Anakin knew it.

"I need you to take this to Senator Amidala," he told Jocasta, his voice once again strong and steady. The name made the old woman's eyebrows shoot up from where they had fallen in wry acceptance, but she didn't reprimand him, for which he was grateful. "She'll protect you and help you meet up with the others." He swallowed and took a breath before continuing. "Tell her... tell her I love her. More than anything. And tell her to love our kid for the both of us."

Through his own blurred vision, he thought he saw tears welling in the woman's eyes. Unable to handle any words she might give him, he dropped the ring into her withered hands and closed her fingers around it.

"Wish me luck," he said, shooting to his feet and disappearing around the corner with only a rustle of robes to mark his departure.

"Good luck, Master Skywalker," Jocasta whispered to the empty hallway, the precious symbol of love still gripped tightly in her clenched fist.


	5. Premonitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan's shin hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! I found Obi-wan!

Obi-wan's shin throbbed. It was a ridiculous thing to be agonizing over. Like noticing a misplaced brushstroke on a painting ruined by childish handprints smearing mud across the artwork. There were several thousand other things for Obi-wan to be worrying about: bruises and cuts amassed during his fight against Grievous (not the least of which being his back, which he was sure was stained black and blue from when the good General hurled him into a star fighter), a traitor clone army that had just blown him off the cliff, and the fact that he was soaking wet and dripping water all over the entire blasted ship (which, by the way, was the same ship that Grievous had so kindly pitched him into) and stuck sitting in a blasted puddle.

The Jedi Master was seriously considering that Cody had planned for him to fall in the pool. If you're going to attack your own General, might as well make sure to douse him in murky water on the way down. Cody knew Obi-wan hated getting wet. Sadism on top of betrayal. The clone commander was a real piece of work.

So, yes. Soaking wet, sitting in a puddle, flying in a blasted ship. And his shin hurt.

Obi-wan considered that perhaps his priorities weren't very straight at present. Obi-wan decided that he really didn't care.

Blast his shin hurt. Obi-wan supposed he should count his blessings that Anakin wasn't -and never would be- aware of this particular injury. If Anakin had been there, he would have had an absolutely terrific time with teasing his former master. Obi-wan could picture it now, the raised eyebrows, the childish smirk unrestrained as his eyes sparkled with mischief. He could practically hear Anakin's voice in his head: "Dueling against a four-armed cyborg with armor made of durasteel, some of the toughest metal in the galaxy, and you decided to kick him in the shin. What, after you lost your lightsaber, you decided to try to negotiate with it?"

Obi-wan wished Anakin was with him.

"Emergency code 913. I have no contact on any frequency."

On top of everything, the ship communicators were having trouble connecting to Coruscant. A connection appeared, and a blue hologram sparked for a moment before fizzling out.

"Master Kenobi."

Obi-wan's shin hurt a bit less. "Repeat." Was that... Bail?

The hologram stabilized, and sure enough, it was, "Senator Organa." Bail was one of the more tolerable politicians, if there ever was such a thing. He was trustworthy. A friend, even. Why he was on this frequency, Obi-wan had no idea, but he would put that question off until later. "My clone troops turned on me, I need help."

Bail hesitated for a moment. "We have just rescued Master Yoda." Oh no. "It appears this ambush has happened everywhere. Including the Jedi Temple." Dread stirred in Obi-wan's gut. The terrible cries in the Force had been hard to ignore, and the whole galaxy felt much darker and colder. He had already guessed that the betrayal wasn't localized, but to hear it confirmed... "We are sending you our coordinates," Bail told Obi-wan, his face solemn as the transmission closed.

His shin really hurt.

Obi-wan was barely out of the cockpit before his restraint failed. "How many other Jedi have managed to survive?" He asked, dismissing Bail's offers of medical attention and jumping straight to the point. After a cursory glance to assure that Obi-wan was, in fact, alive and not injured (badly), Yoda turned and began to lead the way further into the white hallways of the large cruiser.

"Survived, a small group of Padawans and Younglings did," the small Master answered.

"I received a transmission from Padawan Kilsek asking for immediate assistance," Bail added. "Apparently, he was told to contact me once he managed to escape. When I picked them up, I saw thousands of troops attacking the Temple." Bail stopped walking, and turned to face Obi-wan. "Padawan Kilsek was privy to some very disturbing news."

A frown creased Obi-wan's lips, and he glanced down at Master Yoda to see if he knew about this. By the severe lines aging the Master even further, he assumed so.

"Discovered, the Sith lord was," Yoda told Obi-wan. The news seemed like it should have caused some elation, but all Obi-wan felt was more dread. "Chancellor Palpatine, Darth Sidious is."

Obi-wan's stomach dropped. Anakin.

"That's why I went looking for Master Yoda," Bail confirmed.

"That's impossible. We would have sensed it."

"Clouded, our vision has been. For a long time."

Obi-wan took a shaky breath. "The group of Padawans and Younglings that survived. Are they the only ones? No one else survived the clones?"

Yoda hummed. "Unsure, we are. Help escaping the Temple, Padawan Kilsek's group had." Something that Obi-wan would call humor, if it wasn't so overlaid with pain, flashed in the green Jedi's eyes. "To thank for their safety, your old Padawan is."

"Anakin? Is he here?" He didn't think so. If he was, he would have been the first to greet Obi-wan before the star-fighter had even landed.

"Master Yoda!" A teenage boy with sandy blonde hair skated around the corner, coming to a skidding stop in front of them. He was breathing heavily, and didn't even acknowledge Obi-wan's presence "It's Heath."

The boy's words confused Obi-wan, but Yoda needed no more explanation.

"To her, take me." The small Jedi Master climbed piggyback onto the boy's back, and the boy was around the corner and down the hallway at full sprint in a second.

Bail took off down the hallway as well, and Obi-wan followed. The Senator must have felt Obi-wan's questioning gaze by his shoulder, because he turned to Obi-wan long enough to tell him, "She's one of the Padawans that escaped. She was injured. Critically."

"Will she survive?"

Bail didn't meet Obi-wan's eyes. "We don't know."

The Padawan was surprisingly fast, drawing even further ahead of them as they rounded corners on the way to the med bay. When Bail and Obi-wan arrived at the glass dividing the room from the hallway, Yoda was already inside. The boy was standing outside, silent tears running down his cheeks as he tried desperately to catch his breath without taking his eyes off the sole bed in the room. A teenage girl, about his age, rested on the bed. The white sheet was drawn up to her chest. An ugly bloodstain marred the part that covered her abdomen. She was panting in effort, her heartbeat so erratic Obi-wan was almost expecting the organ to leap out of her chest.

"She's not going to make it," the boy whispered, pain and despair making his features look too young and too old simultaneously. A deep, shuddering breath in. "This is my fault."

Bail looked physically pained by the boy's statement. "Padawan Kilsek, this is not your fault." The Padawan started shaking his head, slowly. "You did the best you could. You saved them."

"I couldn't save her. And I couldn't save the others." A heaving breath. "Anakin trusted me, and I couldn't even get all of them out."

"Anakin's trust was well placed," Obi-wan told the boy quietly. "You did save them. You did better than any other person in your position could. Anakin would tell you the same."

Padawan Kilsek blinked. He hastily wiped his tears away for them to be replaced almost immediately. "Master Kenobi," he choked out, his back straightening as he tried erase his tears behind his sleeve. "I'm glad you survived."

"And I, you, Padawan Kilsek." Obi-wan replied sincerely. "I'm sorry about Padawan Heath. She is a strong Jedi. Her courage deserves more."

"Knight." The Padawan told Obi-wan brusquely. He frowned in confusion, and Kilsek clarified. "Knight Heath."

As a part of the Council, Obi-wan had been present or aware of all of the Knighting ceremonies that had happened recently. Despite her courage and kindness, Padawan Heath had not yet been Knighted.

"Anakin gave her the rank of Knight before we were split up." Kilsek told Obi-wan. He raised his chin and stared through watering eyes at the Master defiantly. Obi-wan barely stopped his jaw from dropping.

The door slid open, and Yoda shuffled out. The little Master chuckled up at them. "Exploiting his position on the Council, Skywalker is. Given promotions to anyone else, has he?"

"Um," Kilsek hesitated, losing some of the defiant spark in his eye as he looked down on the Jedi Grandmaster.

"If Anakin was awarding promotions, I can imagine you would be a part of that. Right, Knight Kilsek?" Obi-wan said wryly. Leave it to Anakin to break years of Jedi tradition.

"Um, yeah. And Pli-sec." Kilsek shifted nervously on his feet.

"Agree with Knight Skywalker, I do. Knighted, you three are." This time, Obi-wan's jaw did drop, along with Padawan- Knight Kilsek's. Yoda chuckled at their expressions. "Unconventional, Skywalker is. Wrong, he is not. Come, Knight Kilsek. Tell Master Kenobi about the Temple, you will. Then, to Knight Heath's side, you will return."

"Yes Master."

Never before had Obi-wan wanted to contact a politician so badly. The communicator he had nicked from Bail continued to blink at him as it connected to one Senator Amidala's personal communicator. The Jedi Master cursed as the device once again asked him for a message because of course she couldn't answer at the moment. There was a slight possibility -and slight it was, despite how much Obi-wan wanted to believe it- that the Senator wasn't answering because Anakin had already gotten in contact with her. But as she continued to fail to pick up, the chance lessened even further, and Obi-wan's mind jumped to other, less hopeful options.

She was a Senator that was a known friend of two of the galaxy's most famous Jedi. With the clones exterminating Jedi, it wouldn't be far fetched for them to target her as well. Not to mention her public opposition to Palpatine's growing power in the Senate. The Senator had publicly challenged a Sith Lord. Repeatedly. She could already be dead or kidnapped.

Obi-wan wondered how Anakin would react if the Senator really was dead.

Then he was reminded that Anakin was in even worse danger than the Senator was, and was even more likely to be dead.

He continued to call her.

The Jedi Master strode to the hangar bay, the communicator still gripped desperately in his hand even as his focus began to shift away from helpless waiting and towards a more... aggressive approach. He was just considering a plan that would get him out of the cruiser before Yoda could stop him -one that would have made Anakin proud, as it involved explosions and utter chaos- when the communicator chimed with a successful connection.

Obi-wan was so surprised that he nearly dropped the communicator, and it took several moments for him to register Senator Amidala's voice emanating from his hand.

"Bail?"

"I'm afraid not, Senator," Obi-wan replied, grateful that his voice didn't sound as desperate as he felt. "Senator Organa lent this device to me so that I may contact you."

A pause. Then. "Obi-wan?!"

It was as near to a screech that would ever come out of Padme Amidala's mouth, and Obi-wan barely managed to suppress a flinch.

Valiantly ignoring the less than regal greeting, the Jedi paused in his tracks to clear his mind. With only a little difficulty (a lot), he was able to release his growing anxiety to the Force. At least most of it.

"Senator, are you alone?"

"Yes, yes I am." She had composed her voice into a diplomatic monotone that hid all but the slightest bit of worry. The fact that the worry had managed to peak past her impressive mask brought a terrible churning in his gut. "Obi-wan, excuse my bluntness, but please tell me Anakin is with you."

The Jedi Master deflated. "To be honest, Senator," he sighed, running his hand wearily down his face, "I was hoping he was with you."

"Then... the Temple..." She paused, her voice taking on a new urgency, "Obi-wan, the Temple! It's under attack- I can see the smoke from here!"

Obi-wan pursed his lips. "Bail has informed me. We also have several younglings with us. They mentioned Anakin helped them escape. I was hoping that he had gone to you after his own daring getaway. That he is not with you... I fear the worst."

"He's still in the Temple," Padme agreed. "Is he alright? Did the younglings say anything? Do you know?"

"He was alright before they separated," Obi-wan sighed. "Senator-"

"Hold on for a second," she interrupted briskly, sounding half distracted.

"Senator?"

"It seems I have visitors," she explained briefly.

Obi-wan's shin throbbed... and his bad feeling shot through the roof. "Senator, listen to me. Don't answer the door if it's an official of the Republic. A clone, a Senator, the Chancellor; don't let them know you're home."

"Understood."

One thing Obi-wan had always liked about the good Senator was her instincts under pressure. Her composure under pressure was admirable. There was a brief moment of tense silence.

Then, like a whip cracking through the air, it shattered. "OBI-WAN KENOBI! YOU GET YOURSELF DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

The Jedi Master literally rocked back on his heels from the volume and force of the new voice. In the brief space it took for him to reorient himself, he heard several new voices conversing in the background. Padme could be heard ushering the guests into her apartment quickly; Threepio was offering them refreshments and commenting 'Oh is that blood? Oh my...'.

"M-madam Jocasta!" He grimaced at the stutter, feeling much like a chastened youngling.

"Get down here in ten minutes, Kenobi, and come dig your apprentice out of the muck he's jumped neck deep into!" Jocasta's voice carried easily over the comm. only slightly quieter than her initial order.

"My apprentice? Anakin?"

"DO YOU HAVE ANOTHER APPRENTICE?!" The librarian questioned hotly, sounding entirely annoyed with the younger Master. Admittedly, Obi-wan's reactions weren't working at light speed at the moment, but he felt it was entirely reasonable to excuse his slow comprehension based on the traumatic fact that the normally serene librarian was in her rare and deadly 'Terror Mode'. He had only witnessed it twice before, and it generally ended up with someone missing a few bones. Directed at him, it was honestly terrifying, and it wasn't beneath him to admit it.

Clearing his throat, Obi-wan managed to utter an entirely calm and stutter-free sentence. "Understood. I'll be there soon."

"You'd better be. Skywalker doesn't have long."


	6. All the things lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Master, your dramatics are getting us nowhere. It's my job to get upset about things. Your job is to stay calm and save my ass. Remember?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, a bit more blood and gore than in the other chapters. This is the last chapter before the epilogue. Thanks to all of you for your amazing comments!

Walking into the Senator's apartment, a mere building away from the Senate and probably the Chancellor himself, was not one of Obi-wan's greater ideas. The reckless abandon with which he did so... even less. However, it didn't seem that the Republic was focused on the Senator yet; it was nearly desolate in the building. Everyone was focused on the ancient sacred building burning blocks away.

Hidden beneath the folds of his cloak, he risked a glance out of the large window spanning the entire wall. The weird feeling of displacement that only came from looking at the rest of the world from a position high above everyone else caused shivers to rack up his spine. Obi-wan had never liked heights.

Despite the towering expanse, the floor he was currently on didn't allow him to see past all the buildings that towered beside the apartment. The senate building itself obstructed any view of Obi-wan's home. He could not even be sure it was still standing, though logic told him the clones wouldn't have bothered to explode it in such a populated area. A glow originated behind the Senate and bathed the building in gold. Obi-wan told himself it was merely the sunset.

Ducking his head and once again traversing the hallways with a speed that barely avoided frantic, he made it to Senator Amidala's door. He needn't even knock; the moment he paused to announce himself the door shot open and a hand latched onto his collar, dragging him within.

His hand shot to his lightsaber, but it was a pointless motion. Senator Amidala was looking him up and down with a discerning eye, cataloguing any injuries he may have with the same meticulous nature Yoda had displayed. It was an honestly surprising show of worry, for he had never felt as close to the Senator as Anakin was (thank the Force).

"Senator," he greeted. Her hair was styled into a long braid reaching her waist, and her makeup applied liberally, especially around her eyes. He wondered if the concealer was to hide tear-stained cheeks.

She frowned. "You look awful." Without another word, she turned on her heels, beckoning for him to follow her into the dining room. The windowless room with an intentional choice, providing a feeling of safety and privacy that allowed the smallest bit of tension in his shoulders to bleed away for the moment.

What met him in the room was a happy sight, despite the blood.

"Master Kenobi," Madam Jocasta greeted dryly. "What a pleasure for you to join us."

Obi-wan could swear that Anakin possessed him during that moment, because he glanced at Padme's clock and answered with an innocent, "Am I late?" He was, in fact, ten minutes late, despite his rush. There was only so much you could do to travel through space and the dangerously busy traffic of Corascant's rush hour at high speeds. Jocasta's order had been impossible to begin with. Not that he would point that out, considering the likely rhetorical meaning of the command.

Any hint of levity fell when Jocasta answered grimly, "I fear we all were. Years too late, in fact."

She was reclining on an ill-matched sofa that had been dragged into the dining room only recently. Her hand was pressed against her abdomen, and the Jedi lurking behind her looked at Obi-wan with eyes of fear and terror.

Somehow, this was even worse than speaking with Jayden about the final stand by the Masters and Knights at the beginning of the invasion. They all looked so defeated. If was as if their bodies had escaped to leave their souls behind. In a way, though he hadn't been back at the Temple for a few months now, Obi-wan felt the same.

"Where's Anakin?"

Jocasta snorted, and Obi-wan nearly reeled in shock. "Throwing caution to the wind. Where else would your idiotic Padawan be?"

Obi-wan's heart fell. Their communication had cut off before he could ask what had become of his former apprentice, but he had assumed he was with them, if a bit injured.

"He's not my Padawan anymore," he reminded the librarian.

Her expression was a mix between incredulous and sympathetic. "He will always be your Padawan, Kenobi."

The world froze for a moment. Then, with a slight cough, Obi-wan redirected, as was his style. "He's at the Temple?"

"He helped get us out," the Knight spoke up. "He was leading Korg," he gestured to the youngling who held his hand in the tightest of grasps, "to safety when we ran into him."

Obi-wan spared the youngling only the smallest of smiles. "But he isn't with you?" He asked, his voice the epitome of calm while all he wanted was to take off towards the Temple in a brazen attack to dig his former Padawan out of whatever mess he had thrown himself head first into. Only a glance at Padme stopped him from doing just that. Her mouth was curved into a delicate frown, and her arms wrapped around her stomach in an unconscious gesture of her concern, but she wasn't panicking.

She would have been questioning Madam Jocasta from the moment they entered the room. Most likely, she had already known what Obi-wan was hearing now. If Anakin were dead or seriously injured, she would likely already be half-way there with only a blaster and her steely gaze to cause swift retribution.

Obi-wan fixed a piercing stare on Jocasta and crossed his arms expectantly in a pose that Anakin liked to call the "Disapproving Beard"(TM).

Jocasta, while never having been the recipient of this specific look before, knew it well from the many times Anakin had earned his ire. She told him quickly, succinctly, not sparing details about Anakin's concussion or his Force exhaustion or the way the oil of the Dark Side clung to him like static.

Obi-wan left the apartment, absentmindedly telling Jocasta where Bail was waiting just outside to take them to the ship Yoda and the new Knights resided on, before he stalked off with a very familiar storm cloud named Anakin hanging over his head.

Reckless.

Reckless and Stupid.

It didn't matter. Obi-wan soon be there to pull his former Padawan out of the fire. Just as he always did.

"Obi-wan." The Jedi Master hesitated in his steps, debating ignoring the voice and hoping he could avoid this conversation altogether. "Obi-wan, wait." He stopped and turned to face Padme. In the end, the Senator was Obi-wan's friend, and ignoring her would be cruel, even in light of the huge secret he believed she and Anakin had been keeping from him. "I want to come with you to get Anakin." Well... secret was a relative term.

The Jedi refused to be intimidated by her assertive order, thinly veiled behind a request, just like a Senator would do. "Senator, I would be a terribly negligent friend if I allowed you to come with me. The clones won't hesitate to fire on you if you are seen in the company of a Jedi breaking into the Temple," he reasoned calmly, despite the static prickling under his skin; an uneasy feeling he felt sure was the Force trying to tell him something about Anakin.

She gave him a somewhat forced smile. "And I would be an equally negligent friend if I let you face something so horrible alone."

"I am a Jedi, Senator," Obi-wan reminded her gently. "I don't allow emotion to rule me." Like Anakin does went unsaid.

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, well, that doesn't make you a machine, Obi-wan. You have emotions; you care. That's what makes you different from the Sith." She bit her lip, as if ashamed of her words, and then tacked on, "At least, that's what Anakin told me." Before Obi-wan could reply, her eyes blazed and she forged onward. "Besides. You need someone to watch your back, if nothing else."

Obi-wan almost replied that he could watch his own back just fine, but bit back the reply. The other Jedi callously murdered in the Temple probably thought the same. It wouldn't do to be cocky. Besides, the help would be appreciated. But...

"Anakin is the father, isn't he?" It wasn't really a question, but Padme's reluctance to meet Obi-wan's gaze was answer enough. "Would you put your child in danger like that?" His voice was carefully gentle, not reprimanding. He had many things he wanted to say to Anakin about this, and any other time he would have many sharp words to say to his former apprentice, but right now, he just felt numb. It had been almost twenty hours since Cody had first fired upon Obi-wan. There were so many emotions -unexplored and only partially released to the Force- swirling under his skin, it felt like a circuit had been fed to much electricity and exploded.

She pursed her lips before replying. "I would want my child to have a father." Before Obi-wan could come up with any reply to that (he equated a father to someone similar to Qui-gon, and couldn't imagine himself if he had grown up without the Jedi Master at his side), Padme continued in a relenting tone, "But I also want it to survive long enough to get to know him." She met Obi-wan's eyes. "I won't endanger it. But I will escort you to the Temple." Her mouth curved into a wry grin. "It would be rather obvious if you parked a speeder out front."

He matched her grin. "I suppose it would."

Halfway there, Padme received a general call for all senators to report for an emergency session. It was due to begin in little less than an hour, and failure to attend would garner "severe consequences".

"Well, that's not good," Obi-wan commented, bracing himself on the speeder's frame when Padme swerved sharply around a supply ship. She was just below attention attracting speeds, which, on Coruscant, meant very little in terms of safety. The recklessness she sped around other vehicles moving too slow for her taste was worryingly similar to Anakin, and rather unexpected from the more peaceful Senator.

"He's probably planning to denounce the Jedi and explain the attack on the Temple. The people won't stand for long without answers," Padme speculated.

"Yes," he grunted as his head smacked into the seat cushion, "that seems likely." He waited for her to finish her maneuver before continuing, "He might attempt to arrest or kill the senators that have shown opposition to him. You are in danger if you go."

She would have rolled her eyes if she wasn't such a diplomat, Obi-wan knew it. "Of course I won't go. I highly doubt he will stand for anyone speaking against him anymore. First step is to get you and Anakin out of here. Then we can plan our next step."

"I'm glad-" the speeder jerked to a halt and threw the Jedi against his seatbelt, "-you agree."

"I hope your plan isn't to go through the front entrance," Padme commented dryly. The speeder drifted at a much slower rate, passing parallel to the steps leading to the doors of the Temple. A company of ten or so clones guarded the steps.

"I would not advise it, no," Obi-wan replied with equal humor. He looked through his macrobinoculars at the clones loitering below, before searching the upper floors. "Guarding the Chancellor's emergency session seems to be a higher priority for the clones than patrolling an empty Temple." Emotion later. "Still, the front is by far the worst option. Anakin knows the Temple's nooks and crannies better than anyone. I'm sure that he's aware of about ten more exits than is listed in the official manual." He grinned wryly. "Anakin may know ten more exits than the average individual, but, being his master and having to track down my wayward Padawan more often than not, I find myself privy to the majority of them."

Padme frowned. "Then how do we know which one to take? We could go in one and he could come out another. We could completely miss him."

He allowed the macrobinoculars to drop. "Swing around to the east side," he instructed. She didn't question the order, but the look on her face made it clear she was still expecting an answer. "Trust in the Force," was the only answer Obi-wan could give. While it calmed him to have the Force's guidance, it obviously didn't please the Senator, even if she said nothing. He was grateful for her silence on the matter.

Instructing her to stop at a seemingly innocuous spot, lacking windows or any other entryway features, he unbuckled and turned a piercing gaze on her. "Remember what we agreed. You drop me off, then go. Find a place to lay low until I call for you." He waited for her acknowledging nod. "Don't follow me."

This time, he didn't wait for her agreement. The Force was still thrumming down his spine, only growing more insistent the closer he got to the Temple. He found himself unwilling to delay a moment longer.

Gathering the Force, Obi-wan leapt into the air and propelled himself until he was slamming against the side of the building and grasping the well-known handholds (this was one of Anakin's favorite departure points), looking very much like a gangly spider. The loose panel was familiar enough that Obi-wan needn't look hard for it. He sheepishly admitted to himself that he probably used this exit more often than a respected Jedi Master with a seat on the Jedi Council should. But he had to avoid the kriffing press somehow, else he would have gone mad.

He heard the distinct lack of an engine firing and a speeder moving away, and withheld a sigh as he slid into the exposed vent. It was narrow for his broad and muscled shoulders, and he was forced to squirm in an undignified manner for a few feet (slamming his shin on the corner as he did so) before emerging into a larger tunnel that didn't quite allow him to stand fully.

Ruefully rubbing his shin, Obi-wan waited for sounds of a certain Senator following him. He was thankfully (and surprisingly) met by silence. After lighting a penlight, he made his way deeper into the Temple.

The small penlight didn't light much further than his own feet and only assured he didn't trip over an unexpected obstruction. Thus, he didn't see the pale ghost until it was inches from him, and he was rapidly backpedaling, his hand hovering over his lightsaber.

Small cries of terror and whimpering met his own startled reaction, coming from several voices beyond the one 'ghost' Obi-wan had seen. A green lightsaber ignited, and caused Obi-wan's hand to clutch reflexively at his own in a tight-knuckled grip.

His grip slowly loosened as the green light illuminated several of the vent-dwellers and made their young faces distinguishable. The saber's wielder, a Twilek much too young to have access to the weapon or use it properly, stood at the front of the group, trembling slightly. The long weapon was much too big for her, but upon close inspection, Obi-wan was struck that the ten-year old was the oldest of the bunch.

Hands held up soothingly, Obi-wan took a single step forward and allowed the lightsaber's light to fall on his own face as well. The youngling dropped her defensive guard as she recognized the Jedi Master.

"Master Kenobi?"

Keeping his voice soothing, he moved closer in comfort. "Yes, it's me. It's alright young ones, you're safe now."

The Twiledk sniffled before throwing herself into Obi-wan's torso, burying her tears in his robe. Her rapid words were muffled by Obi-wan's clothing, but he caught snatches of the same tale he had heard from Jocasta, clearly interspersed with Anakin's name. He wrapped comforting arms around as much of the group as he could and allowed the rest to cling to his clothing, shocked that he had, by chance, ran into Anakin's wayward group. When they didn't hear from the younglings, Obi-wan had assumed... but they were alright, so it didn't matter what he'd assumed.

The feeling that had encouraged Obi-wan to use this specific entry must have been for this reason. The younglings were obviously petrified, and probably would have stayed in here for days without venturing out to search for help.

"Padme," Obi-wan spoke into the comlink, hoping he had not gone too far into the Temple for it to be jammed. The hope was quashed when static was all he heard on the other end. Blast. One cursory glance over the younglings told him they would be unable to travel the rest of the way and connect with Padme on their own. Their courage, it seemed, had been all used up, and the majority of them were in shock. Much as he hated delaying his "rescue" for his apprentice, Obi-wan knew he would need to escort these children to safety. He wouldn't be able to concentrate otherwise.

Taking the Twilek's chin gently in his hand, he tilted her face up so he could meet her eyes. The calm in his own seemed to help her pull it together and she took several calming breaths. This one would be a good Jedi. He just has to make sure they make it to Yoda so they have the chance to. "What's your name, youngling?"

"Shilah."

"Shilah, you've been very brave. You all have been. I'm gonna help you guys get out, alright? I just need you to follow me, and stay quiet. Can you guys do that?" Various nods were enough for Obi-wan to take one of the youngling's hands and start leading them back the way he had come.

Just as expected, when he once again came to the vent's exit, Padme's speeder had not gone as far as he had instructed her to go. 'Hide out somewhere inconspicuous' didn't really include loitering at a nearby building, but Obi-wan doubted that Padme cared. She had likely planned to follow him in several minutes later, or at least wanted to stay as close as possible so they could have a quick getaway. Exasperated, but also fondly amused, he commed the Senator.

"Obi-wan? You found him already?"

A twinge of some cousin of guilt made itself known when her excitement broke through her calm facade, but he didn't dally. "Not yet, Padme. Actually," he glanced back at the younglings, all of whom were looking at him with wide eyes, as if they couldn't believe they were actually going to be saved, "I found Anakin's missing younglings. Korg's group."

Shilah's eyes grew even bigger as she realized one of her missing companions had made it out, but she stayed dutifully silent.

In less than a minute, Padme was pulling up as close as she could to the vent. One by one, he lowered the younglings into the overflowing speeder. Shilah was the last one, and she extended the green lightsaber to Obi-wan with an almost comical solemnity. "Master Skywalker said it was Master Qui-gon's lightsaber. He said it meant Master Qui-gon would be watching over us. Please be careful, Master Kenobi." Obi-wan nodded and took the saber quietly, glad that Anakin had been able to retrieve it and that it had been such a help to the group.

When the last one was situated, he made eye contact with Padme. "You have to take them to Jocasta's group. Make sure they get to Yoda." Cutting off her protest, he promised, "Anakin and I will find our own way. It's our specialty."

Eventually, she nodded stiffly, and laden with an encouraging number of younglings, sped away.

Anakin never was one for subtlety. Exiting the vent cautiously failed to stop Obi-wan from stepping in a puddle of liquid with a disturbing squelch. Resolutely not looking down, he glanced around the hallway. The destruction to it made it nearly unrecognizable. Blaster burns and lightsaber gouges scarred nearly every foot of the hallway. The troops had already gone through and cleared away the bodies, leaving only smears of blood and clone trooper footprints from when they had stepped in the macabre red puddles.

Wiping what he could of the blood off of his own shoe so he wouldn't track prints, while resolutely refusing to consider the full implications of whose blood it was (a slightly pinker tint than a clone trooper's blood, belonging to a different species and an individual with a markedly smaller frame), he started down the empty corridor towards Communications.

The majority of the clones had been called away to the Senate, and it appeared the hallway had already been cleared, and wouldn't be visited again, but Obi-wan still remained alert; prowling around corners and struggling to prepared himself for finding his old Padawan's corpse splayed on the ground and riddled with blaster burns. The Temple remained as silent as a grave. A mass grace of young and old alike. A mass grace where the peaceful and innocent were murdered merely for-

'Master, your dramatics are getting us nowhere. It's my job to get upset about things. Your job is to stay calm and save my ass. Remember?'

Obi-wan whirled on his heel, fully expecting to see his padawan's cocky frame lounging on a wall with a smug grin locked in place. But there was nothing by empty hallway. The Jedi considered that, maybe, between the deaths in the Temple and the tar weighing down the Force, he had gone insane. He still remembered moments when he heard Qui-gon's voice in his head, moments when he wasn't sure he was in reality. It seemed Anakin's voice had joined Obi-wan's old master.

No!

He shook his head roughly, dislodging the thoughts. The despair in the air was making it hard to breathe, to think. But he wouldn't declare his Padawan dead without definite proof.

Determination burning in his eyes, Obi-wan continued forward.

The next time he paused, it was in front of a closed door that led to a small storage closet. Inside, was only an out of use cleaning droid, and a few manual mops for punishing younglings with chores. Shifting the droid aside with his foot exposed a small trap door in the floor.

Anakin had discovered it years before, back in the earliest days at the Temple. Only a full year after had Obi-wan found it. Had had never told his Padawan that he knew about it because he knew Anakin used it as his personal hideaway for when Temple life became too overwhelming.

Obi-wan was nearing the Communications room. If Anakin had gotten injured any further, or just realized he wouldn't be able to make it out alive if he took on the clones, this is where he would hide.

Rebelliously, Obi-wan's mind conjured an image of Anakin riddled with blaster wounds, curled up in a small ball in the small sanctuary. Pale and cold and dead. It is a familiar image; over the course of the war there have been many times when Obi-wan's imagination got ahead of him when he walked in after a situation that Anakin simply couldn't have survived. Obviously, the young Jedi lived to snark another day, fully alive if missing a bit more blood than usual. But the mind has a way of trying to defend itself from that which it fears most.

And this situation was one of the worst they've been in.

He wasn't sure what he would find in the small enclosure, but if Anakin was there, alive or dead, Obi-wan had to know. Hesitantly, he pulled the trap door open.

'So little faith in me, Master.'

It was empty. In fact, it was much too small to fit a full grown Anakin into it at all. Obi-wan had forgotten how small the child had been.

'I haven't been that small in a long time.'

No. He really hadn't.

He was only a few turns away from Communications when destruction once again began to litter his path. The white hallway blackened and crumbled from a grenade, the general shrapnel, organic and not, embedded into the walls and floor. The bodies had long been removed, leaving only puddles of blood or other bits that the cleanup crew couldn't be bothered with collecting at the moment.

It was familiar, in a grotesque way. Obi-wan had witnessed the aftermath of far too many explosions for it to be anything but. It was because of this familiarity that Obi-wan was able to see the discrepancies in the carnage. A place lacking the burnt embellishments of the rest of the space, similar to many others except lacking the small pool under it, where a body laid but did not drain. Smudges around the area, handprints even, which could easily be passed off as the cleanup crew's if it weren't for the distinct lack of a glove on one hand.

A little further down the hallway, where only the fringes of the explosion had reached, a smeared spot of red embellished the wall. In Obi-wan's mind's eye, Anakin leaned his back heavily against the wall, struggling to pull it together enough to continue on. Some sort of injury on his back; it made sense if he triggered the blast and attempted to protect himself from it. The blood was dry, and not nearly as thick as it would have been if it was a life-threatening injury. At least, that was what Obi-wan hoped. The imaginary Anakin lurched forward, once again forging onward to his destination and throwing caution and proper injury care to the wind as he did so. Some injury to his leg caused imaginary Anakin to stumble into the opposite wall, where he left a handprint not yet completely dry.

A few limping steps -Anakin's right leg was clearly injured, and injured badly- and then the steps broke into a run.

"Dammit Anakin," Obi-wan hissed. "Why would you run with these injuries?" There was no sign of pursuit to trigger the rush forward. His own speed increased, the urgency in his mind growing until he was nearly sprinting down the deserted hallway. After this long without encountered a living thing of any kind, Obi-wan knew: the Temple was all but abandoned, the guards at the front steps and the ghosts lurking in every room the only presence in the once thriving building.

He skid to a stop in front of Communications and tried to calm the rioting in his gut. Blaster marks were burned into the wall opposite the door; the troopers were ready for Anakin the moment the door opened.

The Force was thrashing in anger while drowning in loss and pain, threatening to send Obi-wan to his knees.

Obi-wan squeezed his eyes shut, his knuckles going white, and wished this was all just a horrible nightmare. He knew, without a doubt, what he would find beyond the door.

Loss.

The Jedi Master didn't spend much time in the demolished room. He couldn't bear to, after he found Anakin's lightsaber in a far corner of the room, and saw the large exploded console that had thrown the individual in front of it into the far wall, shattering the stone behind it as if it was glass.

"Anakin?" Obi-wan's cracked voice asked the air, as if it would provide his Padawan's comforting presence for one last time.

The room stayed silent and allowed the Force to scream uninhibited.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is Anakin Skywalker, signing off for the last time."

Padme turned to denial the very second he walked into the safehouse without a tall shadow at his back. She took one look at his face, lost all expression behind a wall of stone, and said one word.

"No."

She was brushing past him without another word, and then she was gone before Obi-wan fully registered it. Bail's own devastation stared with a mixture of disbelief and acceptance at Obi-wan. The Jedi Master couldn't bring himself to meet the Senator's eyes.

"He's... really gone?" Bail asked hesitantly.

A stiff nod was all Obi-wan could manage.

Shaking himself as if he could rid himself of the desolation in the air, Bail moved towards Obi-wan and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the couch in the next room. Padme was already there, looking ill and far too pale. He stared between the two of them with concern, hovering uncertainly because how do you console a person who's whole world crumbled around them.

"What happened at the session, Bail?" Obi-wan asked, his voice barely making it past a mumble without shaking.

Bail shook his head in disgust. "He claimed the Jedi attempted to overthrow the Senate. The Republic has been 'reorganized' into an Empire. He made himself into a dictator for the sake of 'security' without anyone realizing they were signing away their freedom."

"Did he threaten you?"

"He made it clear," Bail sighed, "that anyone who continued to oppose him would regret it. Myself and a few other Senators were 'pulled aside' to drive the point home."

"We need to get off of Coruscant before the entire planet is put into lockdown. From there we can..." Obi-wan hesitated.

"Figure a way out of this," Bail finished for him. The vague 'find a way to fix everything' only made Obi-wan's heart plummet more. Only Anakin could take a broad plan like 'fix everything' and make some random explosion that would solve most of their problems.

The Jedi shuddered. He didn't want to think about Anakin and explosions at the moment.

Obi-wan was broken out of the dark thoughts by the sound of Bail's communicator chiming. The Senator turned away, surprise clear in his voice as he greeted, "Senator Mothma."

"Senator Organa," the communicator returned. "I suggest you turn on the nearest television. You need to see this."

Padme lunged towards the television, looking desperate as she flicked it on with more force than absolutely necessary.

Anakin's face stared back at them.

A relieved laugh choked from Padme, all her limbs losing their tension as if she was a puppet with her string cut. A hand covered her mouth, as if she could hide the sheer joy on her features.

"Anakin?" Obi-wan stuttered, shooting to his feet and taking several steps closer to the screen.

The young man had several small cuts and bruises adorning his face, plaster and dust still coating his skin from when the ceiling collapsed and separated him from Jayden. He had an exhausted grin, the cocky kind that only appeared when he knew he had won and was just casually delivering the final blow. "He's alive," Obi-wan nearly laughed.

"Okay, so listen up," Anakin told them, his voice pained but masked behind his regular assurance.

"Obi-wan," Bail muttered, sounding reluctant and pained. The Jedi barely heard him in favor of hanging on to his Padawan's every word. "Obi-wan, Padme," the Senator grew more insistent, until they both tore their eyes off of the screen to glance at him.

"I'm on my last leg here and only have time for one phone call."

"This is a recording," Bail told them. "It was sent to every possible news station. From the Communications room in the Jedi Temple."

No.

"Rather than use it to find my master and wife to say goodbye..."

No.

"...I'm using it to tell the people of the Republic about the Jedi massacre that claimed the lives of countless younglings and adults..."

No.

"...including myself, issued by Chancellor Palpatine, a Sith Lord..."

The world became static, the background behind Anakin finally registering as the stone wall Obi-wan had seen shattered behind the force of an explosion that would drive a body against it. A body that would shatter just as much as it shattered the whole wall Obi-wan saw now behind his doomed apprentice.

Dimly, he heard Padme scream in denial, felt her heart break in two.

All he could see was Anakin's eyes, accepting in a way the stubborn Jedi had never once before been, and scared as he had always refused to admit.

"This is Anakin Skywalker, loyal servant to the Republic, Jedi Knight, brother, husband, and soon to be father, signing off for the last time." The soot and blood coated warrior shot them his usual cocky smile, beaming with amazing brilliance despite all exhaustion. His eyes seemed to look specifically at Obi-wan, his last words meant only for him. "Goodbye." The screen went black, and shot to a view of the Jedi Temple with a reporters voice speaking mindlessly.

A keeling moan of absolute pain escaped Padme's lips and she crumpled to the floor, her arms wrapped around her stomach as if only that would keep her last connection to Anakin from fading away.

Obi-wan's numb lips parted, whisper repeating, "Brother".

They may have stayed there for eternity, caught in the loop of Anakin's last words, if Bail hadn't spoken, with words more awed than despaired, and shattered the loop. "There something going on outside. I think you guys need to see it."

The two barely managed to stumble to the nearest window looking out at the glowing city below, merely for the sake of action than for any curiosity that refused to burn in either of them.

It took Obi-wan several moments to register what he was seeing and work up the energy to decipher why it was important.

When he finally did, he had to blink several times before he was able to stutter out a coherent sentence.

"Is that... a rebellion?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Anakin managed to fix everything with a random explosion one last time.
> 
> Well, that's the end of this story. It's the conclusion to Anakin's life, but the start of a new beginning.  
> Thanks to everyone who stuck with this story until the end, and I hope you enjoyed it. Comments are greatly appreciated, and the support has been great.
> 
> I do have somewhat of a sequel planned, but unlike this story, it isn't already typed, so I'm honestly not sure when it will be updated.
> 
> I don't want to take away from Anakin's sacrifice in this story, but just as a future reference, know that I used Obi-wan logic when I said Anakin's life was over (see: "He betrayed and murdered your father."- Star Wars Episode 4).  
> So get hyped for that (whenever it comes out).  
> Thanks again for all of your support, and I hope you enjoyed this fic!


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